i* 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


"v^ 


^5§CS   this  Book  has  been  dona 
by  the  Employees'  of  th« 


THE   PAGE  STORY  BOOK 


EDITED  BY 

FRANK  E.  SPAULDING 

SUPERINTENDENT  OF  SCHOOLS 
AND 

CATHERINE  T.   BRYCE 

SUPERVISOR   OF  PRIMARY  SCHOOLS,   NEWTON,   UA38. 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW  m&Klyn  Union 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S   SONS 
1914 


COPYRIGHT,  1906,  BY 
CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S  SONb 


Two  kittle  Confederates,  Copyright,  1888;  Among  the  Camps, 
Copyright,  1891 ;  Bred  in  the  Bone,  Copyright,  1904 


CONTENTS 

CO  PACT 

A  LITTLE  CONFEDERATE  HERO       .       .       .        .      i 

JACK  AND  JAKE        .......     17 

1 

KlTTYKIN  AND  THE  PART  SHE  PLAYED  IN  THE 

WAR    .........    50 

CM 
5»- 

in          Two  LITTLE  CONFEDERATES    .....    65 
> 

I.  THEIR  ADVENTURE  WITH  UNION  RAIDERS    65 

II.  THEIR  CAPTURE  BY  UNION  SOLDIERS  .  80 
d 

NANCY  PANSY    ........    88 

o 

THE  CHRISTMAS  PEACE    ......  108 


451767 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


Portrait Frontispiece 


FACING 
PAGB 


Colonel  Stafford  unwrapped  the  bundle  and  disclosed 
a  large  doll,  a  tiny  blue  uniform  and  sword        .      2 

He  drew  them  plans  of  the  roads  and  hills  and  big 
woods 24 

"I  want  my  Kittykin" 58 

The  boy  faced  his  captor  who  held  a  strap  in  one 

hand 82 

As  he  stalked  on,  bitter  and  lonely,  he  was  suddenly 
run  into  by  a  little  boy 112 


INTRODUCTION 

IN  early  education  no  other  form  of  literature 
is,  on  the  whole,  quite  equal  to  the  true  story. 
At  certain  ages  most  children  have  a  taste  for 
myth,  legend,  and  fairy  tale,  and  some  few  like 
poetry.  But  every  child  dearly  loves  the  true 
story — loves  it  not  at  any  particular  age,  but  at 
all  times.  But  the  story  must  be  true — not  merely 
nor  even  necessarily  true  to  the  letter,  but  true 
to  life,  to  nature,  to  experience.  And  it  must 
be  true  to  the  possibilities  of  personal  experience 
as  these  are  conceived  by  the  reader  or  listener. 

Such,  in  eminent  degree,  are  the  six  stories  by 
Thomas  Nelson  Page  here  presented.  The  he- 
roes and  heroines  of  these  stories — and  they  are 
real  heroes  and  heroines — are  boys  and  girls  from 
seven  to  fourteen  years  of  age.  Their  wholesome 
thoughts  and  feelings,  the  true  courage,  moral  as 
well  as  physical,  displayed  in  their  eventful  ca- 
reers, appeal  strongly  to  the  sympathy  and  ad- 
miration of  children  of  like  age,  and  scarcely  less 
to  youth  and  adult.  Every  story  is  instinct  with 
moral  stimulation.  Courage,  honesty,  truth,  sym- 


x  Introduction 

pathy,  loyalty,  patriotism,  and  many  more  of  the 
fundamental  virtues  are  taught  in  the  only  ef- 
fective way — by  living,  attractive  example.  The 
value  of  this  book  from  the  ethical  standpoint  can 
scarcely  be  overstated. 

The  stories  are  full  of  life,  of  action,  of  inci- 
dent, of  generous  bravery,  mingled  with  not  a 
little  pathos  and  with  some  humor.  They  move 
amid  scenes  and  objects  of  perennial  interest  to 
girlhood  and  boyhood  —  horses,  soldiers,  and 
Christmas.  Moreover,  they  are  historically  true, 
faithful,  within  their  limits,  to  the  real  character 
and  spirit  of  the  place  and  time  which  they  repre- 
sent— the  South  during  and  immediately  follow- 
ing the  Civil  War.  They  are  not  less  faithful,  on 
the  other  hand,  to  the  honest  spirit  and  purpose  of 
those  who  fought  for  the  principles  of  the  North. 
In  short,  they  are  fair  to  both  sides,  in  statement, 
temper,  and  tendency.  Hence  they  are  admirably 
adapted  to  put  the  child  in  the  right  attitude  to 
approach  the  study  of  this  period  of  our  country's 
history. 

It  will  interest  the  young  reader  to  know  that 
the  author  of  these  stories  was  at  that  time  a  boy 
of  the  age  of  his  young  heroes;  that  he  lived  in 
the  midst  of  the  kind  of  events  which  he  describes 
so  vividly ;  and  that  he  has  made  free  use  of  his 
own  experiences  of  that  period. 

Mr.   Page  was  born  at  Oakland  Plantation, 


Introduction  xi 

Hanover  County,  Va.,  April  23,  1853.  In  the 
first  chapter  of  his  "  Two  Little  Confederates  " 
he  says  of  his  boyhood  home :  "  It  was  not  a 
handsome  place,  as  modern  ideas  go,  but  down 
in  Old  Virginia,  where  the  standard  was  different 
from  the  later  one,  it  passed  in  old  times  as  one 
of  the  best  plantations  in  all  that  region.  .  .  . 
It  was  quite  secluded.  It  lay,  it  is  true,  right 
between  two  of  the  county  roads,  the  Court- 
house Road  being  on  one  side,  and  on  the  other 
the  great '  Mountain  Road,'  down  which  the  large 
covered  wagons  with  six  horses  and  jingling  bells 
used  to  go.  ... 

"  The  mansion  itself  was  known  on  the  planta- 
tion as  '  the  great-house,'  to  distinguish  it  from 
all  the  other  houses  on  the  place,  of  which  there 
were  many.  It  had  as  many  wings  as  the  angels 
in  the  vision  of  Ezekiel." 

The  young  boy's  life  was  filled  with  soldiers 
and  armies,  first  of  the  South  and  later  of  the 
North,  as  they  passed  along  those  county  roads, 
made  raids,  or  encamped  in  the  vicinity. 

Four  of  the  stories  in  this  book — A  Little  Con- 
federate Hero,  Jack  and  Jake,  Kitty  kin,  and  Nancy 
Pansy — are  taken  from  "  Among  the  Camps,"  a 
book  of  young  people's  stories  of  the  war,  first 
published  in  1891.  The  two  adventures  of  The 
Two  Little  Confederates  are  taken  from  the  book 
of  the  same  title,  published  in  1888.  The  Christ- 


xii  Introduction 

mas  Peace  is  from  a  book  of  stories  entitled  "  Bred 
in  the  Bone,"  and  published  in  1904. 

With  the  exception  of  the  first,  all  these  stories 
bear  the  titles  given  them  in  the  original  publica- 
tions. Abridgment  of  the  original  stories  has 
been  necessary,  however,  partly  for  the  sake  of 
reducing  them  to  the  limits  of  space  available, 
but  also  for  the  purpose  of  bringing  them  through- 
out within  an  approximately  uniform  range  of 
intelligence  and  interest.  The  entire  book  is  thus 
adapted  to  the  use  and  enjoyment  of  children  in 
the  fourth  and  fifth  school  grades.  This  abridg- 
ment and  adaptation,  it  is  hoped,  have  been  ef- 
fected without  affecting  unfavorably  the  unity  or 
the  original  import  of  the  stories.  At  the  same 
time  no  effort  has  been  made  to  satisfy  completely 
the  interest  and  curiosity  of  the  young  reader. 
On  the  contrary,  experience  has  shown  that  many 
will  be  stimulated  to  read  the  full  story  as  origi- 
nally told,  and  even  other  stories  in  the  books 
from  which  these  are  taken. 

Aside  from  introductory  paragraphs,  summa- 
rizing briefly  the  essential  features  of  omitted  por- 
tions, and  some  slight  adaptations  in  Nancy 
Pansy,  the  stories  are  here  given  in  the  exact 
language  of  the  originals. 

NEWTON,  MASS.  r.  E.  S. 

March,  1906. 


THE  PAGE  STORY  BOOK 


THE   PAGE  STORY  BOOK 


A  LITTLE  CONFEDERATE  HERO 


IN  the  South,  during  the  war,  it  became  more 
and  more  difficult  each  year  to  secure  new  play- 
things and  other  Christmas  presents  for  the  chil- 
dren. Colonel  Stafford,  a  Confederate  officer,  had 
promised  his  little  ones  some  bright  new  presents 
for  "  next  Christmas."  These  he  procured  at  the 
first  opportunity,  and  tied  them  up  in  a  bundle, 
which  he  guarded  with  great  care  in  camp,  on  the 
march,  and  in  battle.  So  great  was  his  evident 
anxiety  for  the  safety  of  the  precious  bundle,  the 
soldiers  became  curious  to  know  its  contents.  So 
one  evening,  before  the  camp-fire,  Colonel  Staf- 
ford unwrapped  the  bundle  and  disclosed — a  large 
doll,  a  tiny  blue  uniform  and  sword,  and  a  few 
other  things  dear  to  childhood.  As  he  told  about 
his  little  ones,  Evelyn  and  Charlie,  Ran  and  Bob, 
there  were  few  dry  eyes  among  the  soldiers.  Not 
the  least  moved  was  General  Denby,  a  stern  old 


2  The  Page  Story  Book 

Union  officer  held  prisoner  by  Colonel  Stafford. 
As  he  looked  and  listened,  he  thought  of  his  own 
dear  grandchild  far  away  in  the  North.  There- 
after Colonel  Stafford  treated  the  Union  General 
with  even  more  consideration  than  before. 

Before  Christmas  came  the  Union  army  was  in 
control  of  the  country  about  Colonel  Stafford's 
home.  General  Denby,  the  former  prisoner  of 
war,  was  in  command  of  the  forces  encamped  near 
the  Stafford  homestead. 

As  Christmas  approached,  hope  waned  in  the 
Stafford  family.  The  father  could  never  reach 
them  through  the  Union  lines.  So  the  mother, 
enlisting  the  aid  of  the  older  boys,  Bob  and  Ran, 
set  bravely  to  work  to  supply  the  presents  which 
Evelyn  and  Charlie  had  looked  forward  to  all  the 
year.  She  made  a  gray  uniform  for  Charlie  out 
of  an  old  army  coat  of  her  husband's,  while  the 
boys  made  a  tin  sword  and  whittled  out  a  wooden 
doll. 

But  Christmas  eve,  true  to  his  word,  Colonel 
Stafford  appeared,  bringing  his  precious  bundle 
of  Christmas  things.  He  had  passed  through  the 
enemy's  lines  disguised  as  a  pedler. 


II 

When  the  pack  was  opened,  such  a  treasure- 
house  of  toys  and  things  was  displayed  as  surely 


Colonel  Stafford  unwrapped  the  bundle  and  disclosed  a  large 
doll,  a  tiny  blue  uniform  and  sword. 


A  Little  Confederate  Hero  3 

never  greeted  any  other  eyes.  The  smaller  chil- 
dren, including  Ran,  were  not  awaked,  at  their 
father's  request,  though  Mrs.  Stafford  wished  to 
wake  them  to  see  him;  but  Bob  was  let  into  the 
secrets,  except  that  he  was  not  permitted  to  see 
a  small  package  which  bore  his  name.  Mrs.  Staf- 
ford and  the  Colonel  were  like  two  children  them- 
selves as  they  "  tipped  "  about  stuffing  the  long 
stockings  with  candy  and  toys  of  all  kinds.  The 
beautiful  doll  with  flaxen  hair,  all  arrayed  in  silk 
and  lace,  was  seated,  last  of  all,  securely  on  top  of 
Evelyn's  stocking,  with  her  wardrobe  just  below 
her,  where  she  would  greet  her  young  mistress 
when  she  should  first  open  her  eyes ;  and  Charlie's 
little  blue  uniform  was  pinned  beside  the  gray 
one  his  mother  had  made,  with  his  sword  buckled 
around  the  waist. 

Bob  was  at  last  dismissed  to  his  room,  and  the 
Colonel  and  Mrs.  Stafford  settled  themselves  be- 
fore the  fire,  hand  in  hand,  to  talk  over  all  the 
past.  They  had  hardly  started,  when  Bob  rushed 
down  the  stairs  and  dashed  into  their  room. 

"  Papa!  papa!  the  yard's  full  of  Yankees!  " 

Both  the  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Stafford  sprang  to 
their  feet. 

**  Through  the  back  door ! "  cried  Mrs.  Staf- 
ford, seizing  her  husband. 

"  He  cannot  get  out  that  way — they  are  every- 
where ;  I  saw  them  from  my  window !  "  gasped 


4  The  Page  Story  Book 

Bob,  just  as  the  sound  of  trampling  without  be- 
came audible. 

"Oh,  what  will  you  do?  Those  clothes!  If 
they  catch  you  in  those  clothes !  "  began  Mrs.  Staf- 
ford, and  then  stopped,  her  face  growing  ashy 
pale.  Bob  also  turned  even  whiter  than  he  had 
been  before.  He  remembered  the  young  man 
who  was  found  in  citizen's  clothes  in  the  au- 
tumn, and  knew  his  dreadful  fate.  He  burst 
out  crying.  "  Oh,  papa !  will  they  hang  you  ?  " 
he  sobbed. 

"  I  hope  not,  my  son,"  said  the  Colonel  grave- 
ly. "  Certainly  not,  if  I  can  prevent  it."  A 
gleam  of  amusement  stole  into  his  eyes.  "  It's  an 
awkward  fix,  certainly,"  he  added. 

"  You  must  conceal  yourself !  "  cried  Mrs.  Staf- 
ford, as  a  number  of  footsteps  sounded  on  the 
porch,  and  a  thundering  knock  shook  the  door. 
"  Come  here !  "  She  pulled  him  almost  by  main 
force  into  a  closet  or  entry,  and  locked  the  door, 
just  as  the  knocking  was  renewed.  As  the  door 
was  apparently  about  to  be  broken  down,  she  went 
out  into  the  hall.  Her  face  was  deadly  white,  and 
her  lips  were  moving  in  prayer. 

"  Who's  there?  "  she  called  tremblingly,  trying 
to  gain  time. 

"  Open  the  door  immediately,  or  it  will  be 
broken  down,"  replied  a  stern  voice. 

She  turned  the  great  iron  key  in  the  heavy  old 


A  Little  Confederate  Hero  5 

brass  lock,  and  a  dozen  men  rushed  into  the  hall. 
They  all  waited  for  one,  a  tall  elderly  man  in  a 
general's  fatigue  uniform,  and  with  a  stern  face 
and  a  grizzled  beard.  He  addressed  her : 

"  Madam,  I  have  come  to  take  possession  of 
this  house  as  my  headquarters." 

Mrs.  Stafford  bowed,  unable  to  speak.  She 
was  sensible  of  a  feeling  of  relief;  there  was  a 
gleam  of  hope.  If  they  did  not  know  of  her 
husband's  presence —  But  the  next  word  de- 
stroyed it. 

"  We  have  not  interfered  with  you  up  to  the 
present  time,  but  you  have  been  harboring  a  spy 
here,  and  he  is  here  now." 

"  There  is  no  spy  here,  and  has  never  been," 
said  Mrs.  Stafford  with  dignity ;  "  but  if  there 
were,  you  should  not  know  it  from  me."  She 
spoke  with  much  spirit.  "  It  is  not  the  custom  of 
our  people  to  deliver  up  those  who  have  sought 
their  protection." 

The  officer  removed  his  hat.  His  keen  eye 
was  fixed  on  her  white  face.  "  We  shall  search 
the  premises,"  he  said  sternly,  but  more  respect- 
fully than  he  had  yet  spoken.  "  Major,  have  the 
house  thoroughly  searched." 

The  men  went  striding  off,  opening  doors  and 
looking  through  the  rooms.  The  General  took 
a  turn  up  and  down  the  hall.  He  walked  up  to  a 
door. 


6  The  Page  Story  Book 

"That  is  my  chamber,"  said  Mrs.  Stafford 
quickly. 

The  officer  fell  back.  "  It  must  be  searched," 
he  said. 

"  My  little  children  are  asleep  in  there,"  said 
Mrs.  Stafford,  her  face  quite  white. 

"  It  must  be  searched,"  repeated  the  General. 
"  Either  they  must  do  it,  or  I.  You  can  take 
your  choice." 

Mrs.  Stafford  made  a  gesture  of  assent.  He 
opened  the  door  and  stepped  across  the  threshold. 
There  he  stopped.  His  eye  took  in  the  scene. 
Charlie  was  lying  in  the  little  trundle-bed  in  the 
corner,  calm  and  peaceful,  and  by  his  side  was 
Evelyn,  her  little  face  looking  like  a  flower  lying  in 
the  tangle  of  golden  hair  which  fell  over  her  pillow. 
The  noise  disturbed  her  slightly,  for  she  smiled 
suddenly,  and  muttered  something  about  "  Santa 
Tlaus  "  and  a  "  dolly."  The  officer's  gaze  swept 
the  room,  and  fell  on  the  overcrowded  stockings 
hanging  from  the  mantel.  He  advanced  to  the 
fireplace  and  examined  the  doll  and  trousers 
closely.  With  a  curious  expression  on  his  face, 
he  turned  and  walked  out  of  the  room,  closing 
the  door  softly  behind  him. 

"  Major,"  he  said  to  the  officer  in  charge  of 
the  searching  party,  who  descended  the  steps  just 
then,  "  take  the  men  back  to  camp,  except  the 
sentinels.  There  is  no  spy  here." 


A  Little  Confederate  Hero  7 

In  a  moment  Mrs.  Stafford  came  out  of  her 
chamber.  The  old  officer  was  walking  up  and 
down  in  deep  thought.  Suddenly  he  turned  to 
her: 

"  Madam,  be  so  kind  as  to  go  and  tell  Colonel 
Stafford  that  General  Denby  desires  him  to  sur- 
render himself." 

Mrs.  Stafford  was  struck  dumb.  She  was  un- 
able to  move  or  to  articulate. 

"  I  shall  wait  for  him,"  said  the  General  quietly, 
throwing  himself  into  an  arm-chair  and  looking 
steadily  into  the  fire. 

in 

As  his  father  concealed  himself,  Bob  had  left 
the  chamber.  He  was  in  a  perfect  agony  of  mind. 
He  knew  that  his  father  could  not  escape,  and  if 
he  were  found  dressed  in  citizen's  clothes  he  felt 
that  he  could  have  but  one  fate.  All  sorts  of 
schemes  entered  his  boy's  head  to  save  him.  Sud- 
denly he  thought  of  the  small  group  of  prisoners 
he  had  seen  pass  by  about  dark.  He  would  save 
him!  Putting  on  his  hat,  he  opened  the  front 
door  and  walked  out.  A  sentinel  accosted  him 
surlily  to  know  where  he  was  going.  Bob  in- 
vited him  in  to  get  warm,  and  soon  had  him 
engaged  in  conversation. 

"  What  do  you  do  with  your  prisoners  when 
you  catch  them  ?  "  inquired  Bob. 


8  The  Page  Story  Book 

"  Send  some  on  to  prison — and  hang  some." 

"  I  mean  when  you  first  catch  them." 

"  Oh,  they  stay  in  camp.  We  don't  treat  'em 
bad,  without  they  be  spies.  There's  a  batch  at 
camp  now,  got  in  this  evening — sort  o'  Christmas 
gift."  The  soldier  laughed  as  he  stamped  his  feet 
to  keep  warm. 

"  Where's  your  camp  ?  "  Bob  asked. 

"  About  a  mile  from  here,  right  on  the  road, 
or  rather  right  on  the  hill  at  the  edge  of  the  pines 
'yond  the  crick."  * 

The  boy  left  his  companion,  and  sauntered  in 
and  out  among  the  other  men  in  the  yard.  Pres- 
ently he  moved  on  to  the  edge  of  the  lawn  beyond 
them.  No  one  took  further  notice  of  him.  In  a 
second  he  had  slipped  through  the  gate,  and  was 
flying  across  the  field.  He  knew  every  foot  of 
ground  as  well  as  a  hare,  for  he  had  been  hunting 
and  setting  traps  over  it  since  he  was  as  big  as 
little  Charlie.  He  had  to  make  a  detour  at  the 
creek  to  avoid  the  picket,  and  the  dense  briers 
were  very  bad  and  painful.  However,  he  worked 
his  way  through,  though  his  face  was  severely 
scratched.  Into  the  creek  he  plunged.  "  Ouch !  " 
He  had  stepped  into  a  hole,  and  the  water  was  as 
cold  as  ice.  However,  he  was  through,  and  at  the 
top  of  the  hill  he  could  see  the  glow  of  the  camp- 
fires  lighting  up  the  sky. 

He  crept  cautiously  up,  and  saw  the  dark  forms 


A  Little  Confederate  Hero  9 

of  the  sentinels  pacing  backward  and  forward 
wrapped  in  their  overcoats,  now  lit  up  by  the  fire, 
then  growing  black  against  its  blazing  embers, 
then  lit  up  again,  and  passing  away  into  the 
shadow.  How  could  he  ever  get  by  them  ?  His 
heart  began  to  beat  and  his  teeth  to  chatter,  but 
he  walked  boldly  up. 

"Halt!  who  goes  there?"  cried  the  sentry, 
bringing  his  gun  down  and  advancing  on 
him. 

Bob  kept  on,  and  the  sentinel,  finding  that  it 
was  only  a  boy,  looked  rather  sheepish. 

"  Don't  let  him  capture  you,  Jim,"  called  one 
of  them.  "  Call  the  Corporal  of  the  Guard,"  an- 
other. "  Order  up  the  reserves,"  a  third,  and  so 
on.  Bob  had  to  undergo  something  of  an  ex- 
amination. ^ 

"  I  know  the  little  Johnny,"  said  one  of  them. 

They  made  him  draw  up  to  the  fire,  and  made 
quite  a  fuss  over  him.  Bob  had  his  wits  about 
him,  and  soon  learned  that  a  batch  of  prisoners 
were  at  a  fire  a  hundred  yards  farther  back.  He 
therefore  worked  his  way  over  there,  although 
he  was  advised  to  stay  where  he  was  and  get  dry, 
and  had  many  offers  of  a  bunk  from  his  new 
friends,  some  of  whom  followed  him  over  to 
where  the  prisoners  were. 

Most  of  them  were  quartered  for  the  night  in  a 
hut  before  which  a  guard  was  stationed.  One  or 


io  The  Page  Story  Book 

two,  however,  sat  around  the  camp-fire,  chatting 
with  their  guards.  Among  them  was  a  major  in 
full  uniform.  Bob  singled  him  out;  he  was  just 
about  his  father's  size. 

He  was  instantly  the  centre  of  attraction. 
Again  he  told  them  he  was  from  Holly  Hill ;  again 
he  was  recognized  by  one  of  the  men. 

"  Run  away  to  join  the  army?  "  asked  one. 

"  No,"  said  Bob,  his  eyes  flashing  at  the  sug- 
gestion. 

"Lost?" 

"  No." 

"  Mother  whipped  you  ?  " 

"  No." 

As  soon  as  their  curiosity  had  somewhat  sub- 
sided, Bob,  who  had  hardly  been  able  to  contain 
himself,  said  to  the  Confederate  major  in  a  low 
undertone : 

"  My  father,  Colonel  Stafford,  is  at  home,  con- 
cealed, and  the  Yankees  have  taken  possession  of 
the  house." 

"  Well?  "  said  the  major,  looking  down  at  him 
as  if  casually. 

"  He  cannot  escape,  and  he  has  on  citizen's 
clothes,  and — "  Bob's  voice  choked  suddenly  as 
he  gazed  at  the  major's  uniform. 

"  Well  ?  "  The  prisoner  for  a  second  looked 
sharply  down  at  the  boy's  earnest  face.  Then  he 
put  his  hand  under  his  chin,  and  lifting  it,  looked 


A  Little  Confederate  Hero  1 1 

into  his  eyes.     Bob  shivered,  and  a  sob  escaped 
him. 

The  major  placed  his  hand  firmly  on  his  knee. 
"  Why,  you  are  wringing  wet,"  he  said  aloud. 
"  I  wonder  you  are  not  frozen  to  death."  He  rose 
and  stripped  off  his  coat.  "  Here,  get  into  this ;  " 
and  before  the  boy  knew  it,  the  major  had  bun- 
dled him  into  his  coat,  and  rolled  up  the  sleeves 
so  that  Bob  could  use  his  hands.  The  action  at- 
tracted the  attention  of  the  rest  of  the  group,  and 
several  of  the  Yankees  offered  to  take  the  boy  and 
give  him  dry  clothes. 

"  No,  sir,"  laughed  the  major;  "  this  boy  is  a 
rebel.  Do  you  think  he  will  wear  one  of  your 
Yankee  suits?  He's  a  little  major,  and  I'm  going 
to  give  him  a  major's  uniform." 
r  In  a  minute  he  had  stripped  off  his  trousers, 
and  was  helping  Bob  into  them,  standing  himself 
in  his  underclothes  in  the  icy  air.  The  legs  were 
three  times  too  long  for  the  boy,  and  the  waist 
came  up  to  his  armpits. 

"  Now  go  home  to  your  mother,"  said  the 
major,  laughing  at  his  appearance;  "and  some 
of  you  fellows  get  me  some  clothes,  or  a  blanket. 
I'll  wear  your  Yankee  uniform  out  of  sheer  ne- 
cessity." 

Bob  trotted  around,  keeping  as  far  away  from 
the  light  of  the  camp-fires  as  possible.  He  soon 
found  himself  unobserved,  and  reached  the 


12  The  Page  Story  Book 

shadow  of  a  line  of  huts,  and  keeping-  well  in  it, 
he  came  to  the  edge  of  the  camp.  He  watched 
his  opportunity,  and  when  the  sentry's  back  was 
turned  slipped  out  into  the  darkness.  In  an  in- 
stant he  was  flying  down  the  hill.  The  heavy 
clothes  impeded  him,  and  he  stopped  only  long 
enough  to  snatch  them  off  and  roll  them  into  a 
bundle,  and  sped  on  his  way  again.  He  struck 
the  main  road,  and  was  running  down  the  hill  as 
fast  as  his  legs  could  carry  him,  when  he  suddenly 
found  himself  almost  on  a  group  of  dark  objects 
who  were  standing  in  the  road  just  in  front  of 
him.  One  of  them  moved.  It  was  the  picket. 
Bob  suddenly  stopped.  His  heart  was  in  his 
throat. 

"  Who  goes  there  ?  "  said  a  stern  voice. 

Bob's  heart  beat  as  if  it  would  spring  out  of 
his  body. 

"  Come  in ;  we  have  you,"  said  the  man,  ad- 
vancing. 

Bob  sprang  across  the  ditch  beside  the  road, 
and  putting  his  hand  on  the  top  rail  of  the  fence, 
flung  himself  over  it,  bundle  and  all,  flat  on  the 
other  side,  just  as  a  blaze  of  light  burst  from  the 
picket,  and  the  report  of  a  carbine  startled  the 
silent  night.  The  bullet  grazed  the  boy's  arm 
and  crashed  through  the  rail.  In  a  second  Bob 
was  on  his  feet.  The  picket  was  almost  on  him. 
Seizing  his  bundle,  he  dived  into  the  thicket  as  a 


A  Little  Confederate  Hero  13 

half-dozen  shots  were  sent  ringing  after  him,  the 
bullets  hissing  and  whistling  over  his  head.  Sev- 
eral men  dashed  into  the  woods  after  him  in  hot 
pursuit,  and  a  couple  more  galloped  up  the  road 
to  intercept  him ;  but  Bob's  feet  were  winged,  and 
he  slipped  through  briers  and  brush  like  a  scared 
hare.  They  scratched  his  face  and  threw  him 
down,  but  he  was  up  again.  Now  and  then  a 
shot  crashed  behind  him,  but  he  did  not  care  for 
that ;  he  thought  only  of  being  caught. 

A  few  hundred  yards  up,  he  plunged  into  the 
stream,  and  wading  across,  was  soon  safe  from 
his  pursuers.  Breathless,  he  climbed  the  hill, 
made  his  way  through  the  woods,  and  emerged 
into  the  open  fields.  Across  these  he  sped  like  a 
deer.  He  had  almost  given  out.  What  if  they 
should  have  caught  his  father,  and  he  should  be 
too  late !  A  sob  escaped  him  at  the  bare  thought, 
and  he  broke  again  into  a  run,  wiping  off  with 
his  sleeve  the  tears  that  would  come.  The  wind 
cut  him  like  a  knife,  but  he  did  not  mind  that. 

As  he  neared  the  house  he  feared  that  he  might 
be  intercepted  again  and  the  clothes  taken  from 
him,  so  he  stopped  for  a  moment,  and  slipped 
them  on  once  more,  rolling  up  the  sleeves  and 
legs  as  well  as  he  could.  He  crossed  the  yard 
undisturbed.  He  went  around  to  the  same  door 
by  which  he  had  come  out,  for  he  thought  this  his 
best  chance.  The  same  sentinel  was  there,  walk- 


14  The  Page  Story  Book 

ing  up  and  down,  blowing  his  cold  hands.  Had 
his  father  been  arrested?  Bob's  teeth  chattered, 
but  it  was  with  suppressed  excitement. 

"  Pretty  cold,"  said  the  sentry. 

"  Ye-es,"  gasped  Bob. 

"  Your  mother's  been  out  here  looking  for  you, 
I  guess,"  said  the  soldier,  with  much  friendliness. 

"  I  rec-reckon  so,"  panted  Bob,  moving  toward 
the  door.  Did  that  mean  that  his  father  was 
caught  ?  He  opened  the  door,  and  slipped  quietly 
into  the  corridor. 

General  Denby  still  sat  silent  before  the  hall 
fire.  Bob  listened  at  the  chamber  door.  His 
mother  was  weeping;  his  father  stood  calm  and 
resolute  before  the  fire.  He  had  determined  to 
give  himself  up. 

"  If  you  only  did  not  have  on  those  clothes! " 
sobbed  Mrs.  Stafford.  "  If  I  only  had  not  cut  up 
the  old  uniform  for  the  children !  " 

"  Mother,  mother,  I  have  one ! "  gasped  Bob, 
bursting  into  the  room  and  tearing  off  the  un- 
known major's  uniform. 

Ten  minutes  later,  Colonel  Stafford,  with  a 
steady  step  and  a  proud  carriage,  and  with  his 
hand  resting  on  Bob's  shoulder,  walked  out  into 
the  hall.  He  was  dressed  in  the  uniform  of  a 
Confederate  major,  which  fitted  admirably  his 
tall,  erect  figure. 

"  General  Denby,  I  believe,"  he  said,  as  the 


A  Little  Confederate  Hero  15 

Union  officer  rose  and  faced  him.  "  We  have 
met  before  under  somewhat  different  circum- 
stances," he  said,  with  a  bow,  "  for  I  now  find 
myself  your  prisoner." 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  request  your  parole," 
said  the  General,  with  great  politeness,  "  and  to 
express  the  hope  that  I  may  be  able  in  some  way 
to  return  the  courtesy  which  I  formerly  received 
at  your  hands."  He  extended  his  hand,  and 
Colonel  Stafford  took  it. 

"  You  have  my  parole,"  said  he. 

"  I  was  not  aware,"  said  the  General,  with  a 
bow  toward  Mrs.  Stafford,  "  until  I  entered  the 
room  where  your  children  were  sleeping,  that  I 
had  the  honor  of  your  husband's  acquaintance.  I 
will  now  take  my  leave  and  return  to  camp,  that 
I  may  not  by  my  presence  interfere  with  the  joy 
of  this  season." 

"  I  desire  to  introduce  to  you  my  son,"  said 
Colonel  Stafford,  proudly  presenting  Bob.  "  He 
is  a  hero." 

The  General  bowed  as  he  shook  hands  with 
him.  Perhaps  he  had  some  suspicion  how  true 
a  hero  he  was,  for  he  rested  his  hand  kindly  on 
the  boy's  head,  but  he  said  nothing. 

Both  Colonel  and  Mrs.  Stafford  invited  the  old 
soldier  to  spend  the  night  there,  but  he  declined. 
He,  however,  accepted  an  invitation  to  dine  with 
them  next  day. 


i6 


Before  leaving,  he  requested  permission  to  take 
one  more  look  at  the  sleeping  children.  Over 
Evelyn  he  bent  silently.  Suddenly  stooping,  he 
kissed  her  little  pink  cheek,  and  with  a  scarcely 
audible  "  Good-night,"  passed  out  of  the  room 
and  left  the  house. 


JACK    AND  JAKE.' 


"  JACK  AND  JAKE."  This  is  what  they  used  to 
be  called.  Their  names  were  always  coupled  to- 
gether. Wherever  you  saw  one,  you  were  very 
apt  to  see  the  other — Jack,  slender,  with  yellow 
hair,  big  gray  eyes,  and  spirited  look;  and  Jake, 
thick-set  and  brown,  close  to  him,  like  his  shadow, 
with  his  shining  skin  and  white  teeth.  They  were 
always  in  sight  somewhere;  it  might  be  running 
about  the  yard  or  far  down  on  the  plantation,  or 
it  might  be  climbing  trees  to  look  into  birds'  nests 
— which  they  were  forbidden  to  trouble — or  wad- 
ing in  the  creek,  riding  in  the  carts  or  wagons 
about  the  fields,  or  following  the  furrow,  waiting 
a  chance  to  ride  a  plough-horse  home. 

Jake  belonged  to  Jack.  He  had  been  given  to 
him  by  his  old  master,  Jack's  grandfather,  when 
Jack  was  only  a  few  years  old,  and  from  that 
time  the  two  boys  were  rarely  separated,  except  at 
night. 

Jake  was  a  little  larger  than  Jack,  as  he  was 
somewhat  older,  but  Jack  was  the  more  active. 

17 


18 

Jake  was  dull ;  some  people  on  the  plantation  said 
he  did  not  have  good  sense;  but  they  rarely  ven- 
tured to  say  so  twice  to  Jack.  Jack  said  he  had 
more  sense  than  any  man  on  the  place.  At  least, 
he  idolized  Jack. 

At  times  the  people  commented  on  the  white 
boy  being  so  much  with  the  black;  but  Jack's 
father  said  it  was  as  natural  for  them  to  run  to- 
gether as  for  two  calves — a  black  one  and  a  white 
one — when  they  were  turned  out  together;  that 
he  had  played  with  Uncle  Ralph,  the  butler,  when 
they  were  boys,  and  had  taught  the  latter  as  much 
badness  as  he  had  him. 

So  the  two  boys  grew  up  together  as  "  Jack 
and  Jake,"  forming  a  friendship  which  prevented 
either  of  them  ever  knowing  that  Jake  was  a 
slave,  and  brought  them  up  as  friends  rather  than 
as  master  and  servant. 

If  there  was  any  difference,  the  boys  thought 
it  was  rather  in  favor  of  Jake;  for  Jack  had  to 
go  to  school,  and  sit  for  some  hours  every  morn- 
ing "  saying  lessons  "  to  his  aunt,  and  had  to 
look  out  (sometimes)  for  his  clothes,  while  Jake 
just  lounged  around  outside  the  school-room  door, 
and  could  do  as  he  pleased,  for  he  was  sure  to 
get  Jack's  suit  as  soon  as  it  had  become  too  much 
worn  for  Jack. 

The  games  they  used  to  play  were  surprising. 
Jack  always  knew  of  some  interesting  thing  they 


"Jack  and  Jake"  19 

could  "  make  'tence  "  (that  is,  pretence)  that  they 
were  doing.  They  could  be  fishers  and  trappers, 
of  course ;  for  there  was  the  creek  winding  down 
the  meadow,  in  and  out  among  the  heavy  willows 
on  its  banks;  and  in  the  holes  under  the  fences 
and  by  the  shelving  rocks,  where  the  water  was 
blue  and  deep,  there  were  shining  minnows,  and 
even  little  perch ;  and  they  could  be  lost  on  rafts, 
for  there  was  the  pond,  and  with  their  trousers 
rolled  up  to  their  thighs  they  could  get  on  planks 
and  pole  themselves  about. 

But  the  best  fun  of  all  was  "  In j ins."  Good- 
ness! how  much  fun  there  was  in  In  j  ins!  There 
were  bows  and  arrows,  and  tomahawks,  and  wig- 
wams, and  fires  in  the  woods,  and  painted  faces, 
and  creeping-ups,  and  scalpings,  and  stealing 
horses,  and  hot  pursuits,  and  hidings,  and  cap- 
tures, and  bringing  the  horses  back,  and  the  full 
revenge  and  triumph  that  are  dear  to  boys'  hearts. 
In  j  ins  was,  of  all  plays,  the  best.  There  was  a 
dear  old  wonderful  fellow  named  Leatherstock- 
ing,  who  was  the  greatest  "  Injin"-hunter  in  the 
world.  Jack  knew  all  about  him.  He  had  a  book 
with  him  in  it,  and  he  read  it  and  told  Jake ;  and 
so  they  played  In  j  ins  whenever  they  wanted  real 
fun.  It  was  a  beautiful  place  for  Injins;  the  hills 
rolled,  the  creeks  wound  in  and  out  among  the 
willows,  and  ran  through  thickets  into  the  little 
river,  and  the  woods  surrounded  the  plantation 


2O  The  Page  Story  Book 

on  all  sides,  and  stretched  across  the  river  to  the 
Mont  Air  place,  so  that  the  boys  could  cross  over 
and  play  on  the  other  side  of  the  thick  woods. 

When  the  war  came,  Jack  was  almost  a  big 
boy.  He  thought  he  was  quite  one.  He  was  ten 
years  old,  and  grew  old  two  years  at  a  time.  His 
father  went  off  with  the  army,  and  left  his  mother 
at  home  to  take  care  of  the  plantation  and  the 
children.  That  included  Ancy  and  wee  Martha; 
not  Jack,  of  course.  So  far  from  leaving  any 
one  to  take  care  of  Jack,  he  left  Jack  to  take  care 
of  his  mother.  The  morning  he  went  away  he 
called  Jack  to  him  and  had  a  talk  with  him.  He 
told  him  he  wanted  him  to  mind  his  mother,  and 
look  out  for  her,  to  help  her  and  save  her  trouble, 
to  take  care  of  her  and  comfort  her,  and  defend 
her  always  like  a  man.  Jack  was  standing  right 
in  front  of  him,  and  when  the  talk  began  he  was 
fidgety,  because  he  was  in  a  great  hurry  to  go 
to  the  stable  and  ride  his  father's  horse  Warrior 
to  the  house;  but  his  father  had  never  talked  to 
him  so  before,  and  as  he  proceeded,  Jack  became 
grave,  and  when  his  father  took  his  hand,  and, 
looking  him  quietly  in  the  eyes,  said,  "  Will  you, 
my  son  ?  "  he  burst  out  crying,  and  flung  his  arms 
around  his  father's  neck,  and  said,  "  Yes,  father, 
I  will."  * 

He  did  not  go  out  of  the  house  any  more  then ; 
he  left  the  horse  to  be  brought  down  by  Uncle 


"Jack  and  Jake"  21 

Henry,  the  carriage-driver,  and  he  sat  quietly  by 
his  father,  and  kept  his  eyes  on  him,  getting  him 
anything  he  wanted;  and  he  waited  on  his 
mother ;  and  when  his  father  went  away,  he  kissed 
him,  and  said  all  over  again  that  he  would  do 
what  he  promised.  And  when  his  mother  locked 
herself  in  her  room  afterward,  Jack  sat  on  the 
front  porch  alone,  in  his  father's  chair,  and 
waited.  And  when  she  came  out  on  the  porch, 
with  her  eyes  red  from  weeping  and  her  face 
worn,  he  did  not  say  anything,  but  quietly  went 
and  got  her  a  glass  of  water.  His  father's  talk 
had  aged  him. 

For  the  first  two  years  the  war  did  not  make 
much  difference  to  Jack  personally.  It  made  a 
difference  to  the  country,  and  to  the  people,  and 
to  his  mother,  but  not  to  Jack  individually,  though 
it  made  a  marked  difference  in  him.  It  made  him 
older.  His  father's  words  never  were  forgotten. 
They  had  sobered  him  and  steadied  him.  He  had 
seen  a  great  deal  of  the  war.  The  troop  trains 
passed  up  the  railroad,  the  soldiers  cheering  and 
shouting,  filling  the  cars  and  crowding  on  top  of 
them;  the  army,  or  parts  of  it,  marched  through 
the  country  by  the  county  roads,  camping  in  the 
woods  and  fields.  Many  soldiers  stopped  at 
Jack's  home,  where  open  house  was  kept,  and 
everything  was  gladly  given  to  them.  All  the 
visitors  now  were  soldiers.  Jack  rode  the  gentle- 


22  The  Page  Story  Book 

men's  horses  to  water,  with  Jake  behind  him,  if 
there  was  but  one  (in  which  case  the  horse  was 
apt  to  get  several  waterings),  or  galloping  after 
him,  if  there  were  more.  They  were  hard  riders, 
and  got  many  falls,  for  the  young  officers  were 
usually  well  mounted,  and  their  horses  were  wild. 
But  a  fall  was  no  disgrace.  Jack  remembered 
that  his  father  once  said  to  him,  when  a  colt  had 
thrown  him,  "  All  bold  riders  get  falls ;  only  those 
do  not  who  ride  tame  horses." 

All  the  visitors  were  in  uniform;  all  the  talk 
was  of  war;  all  thoughts  were  of  the  Confederacy. 
Every  one  was  enthusiastic.  No  sacrifices  were 
too  great  to  be  made.  The  corn-houses  were 
emptied  into  the  great,  covered,  blue  army 
wagons;  the  pick  of  the  horses  and  mules  was 
given  up.  Provisions  became  scanty  and  the  food 
plain;  coffee  and  tea  disappeared;  clothes  that 
were  worn  out  were  replaced  by  homespun.  Jack 
dressed  in  the  same  sort  of  coarse,  grayish  stuff 
of  which  Jake's  clothes  used  to  be  made ;  and  his 
boots  were  made  by  Uncle  Dick  at  the  quarters; 
but  this  did  not  trouble  him.  It  was  rather  fun 
than  otherwise.  Boys  like  to  rough  it.  He  had 
come  to  care  little  for  these  things.  He  was  get- 
ting manlier.  His  mother  called  him  her  pro- 
tector ;  his  father,  when  he  came  home — as  he  did 
once  or  twice  a  year — called  him  "  a  man,"  and 
introduced  him  to  his  friends  as  "  my  son." 


"Jack  and  Jake  "  23 

His  mother  began  to  consult  him,  to  rely  on 
him,  to  call  on  him.  He  used  to  go  about  with 
her,  or  go  for  her  wherever  she  had  business,  how- 
ever far  off  it  might  be. 

The  war  had  been  going  on  two  years,  when 
the  enemy  first  reached  Jack's  home.  It  was  a 
great  shock  to  Jack,  for  he  had  never  doubted  that 
the  Confederates  would  keep  them  back.  There 
had  been  a  great  battle  some  time  before,  and  his 
father  had  been  wounded  and  taken  prisoner  (at 
first  he  was  reported  killed).  But  for  that,  Jack 
said,  the  "  Yankees  "  would  never  have  got  there. 
The  Union  troops  did  not  trouble  Jack  personally, 
but  they  made  a  great  deal  of  trouble  about  the 
place.  They  took  all  the  horses  and  mules  that 
were  good  for  anything  and  put  them  in  their 
wagons.  This  was  a  terrible  blow  to  Jack.  All 
his  life  he  had  been  brought  up  with  the  horses; 
each  one  was  his  pet  or  his  friend. 

After  that  the  war  seemed  to  be  much  more 
about  Jack's  home  than  it  had  been  before.  The 
place  was  in  the  possession  first  of  one  army  and 
then  of  the  other,  and  at  last,  one  winter,  the  two 
armies  lay  not  far  apart,  with  Jack's  home  just 
between  them.  "  The  Yankees  "  were  the  nearer. 
Their  pickets  were  actually  on  the  plantation,  at 
the  ford,  and  at  the  bridge  over  the  little  river 
into  which  the  creek  emptied,  in  the  big  woods. 
There  they  lay,  with  their  camps  over  behind  the 


24  The  Page  Story  Book 

hills,  a  mile  or  two  farther  away.  At  night  the 
glow  of  their  camp-fires  could  be  seen.  Jack  had 
a  pretty  aunt  who  used  to  stay  with  his  mother, 
and  many  young  officers  used  to  come  over  from 
the  Confederate  side  to  see  her.  In  such  cases 
they  usually  came  at  night,  leaving  their  horses, 
for  scouting  parties  used  to  come  in  on  them  oc- 
casionally and  stir  them  up.  Once  or  twice 
skirmishes  took  place  in  the  fields  beyond  the 
creek. 

One  evening  a  party  of  young  officers  came  in 
and  took  supper.  They  had  some  great  plan. 
They  were  quite  mysterious,  and  consulted  with 
Jack's  mother,  who  was  greatly  interested  in 
them.  They  appeared  a  little  shy  of  talking  be- 
fore Jack;  but  when  his  mother  said  he  had  so 
much  judgment  that  he  could  be  trusted,  they 
talked  openly  in  his  presence.  They  had  a  plan 
to  go  into  the  Federal  camp  that  night  and  seize 
the  commanding  officer.  They  wanted  to  know 
all  the  paths.  Jack  could  tell  them.  He  was  so 
proud.  There  was  not  a  cow-path  he  did  not 
know  for  two  or  three  miles  around,  for  he  and 
Jake  had  hunted  all  over  the  country.  He  could 
tell  them  everything,  and  he  did  so  with  a  swell- 
ing heart.  They  laid  sheets  of  paper  down  on 
the  dining-table,  and  he  drew  them  plans  of  the 
roads  and  hills  and  big  woods;  showed  where 
the  river  could  be  waded,  and  where  the  ravines 


"O 

o 
o 


a. 

6 

<u 


"Jack  and  Jake"  25 

were.  He  asked  his  mother  to  let  him  go  along 
with  them,  but  she  thought  it  best  for  him  not 
to  go. 

They  set  out  at  bedtime  on  foot,  a  half-dozen 
gay  young  fellows,  laughing  and  boasting  of  what 
they  would  do,  and  Jack  watched  them  enviously 
as  their  forms  faded  away  in  the  night.  They 
did  not  succeed  in  capturing  the  officer,  but  they 
captured  a  number  of  horses  and  a  picket  at  the 
bridge,  and  came  off  triumphant,  with  only  one 
or  two  of  their  number  slightly  wounded.  Shortly 
afterward  they  came  over,  and  had  a  great  time 
telling  their  experiences.  They  had  used  the  map 
Jack  made  for  them,  and  had  got  safely  beyond 
the  pickets  and  reached  the  camp.  There,  finding 
the  sentries  on  guard,  they  turned  back,  and  tak- 
ing the  road,  marched  down  on  the  picket  as  if 
they  had  come  to  relieve  them.  Coming  from 
the  camp  in  this  way,  they  had  got  upon  the 
picket,  when,  suddenly  drawing  their  pistols  and 
poking  them  up  against  the  Yankees,  they  forced 
them  to  surrender,  and  disarmed  them.  Then 
taking  two  of  them  off  separately,  they  compelled 
them  to  give  the  countersign.  Having  got  this, 
they  left  the  prisoners  under  guard  of  two  of  their 
number,  and  the  rest  went  back  to  camp.  With 
the  countersign  they  passed  the  sentry,  and  went 
into  the  camp.  Then  they  found  that  the  com- 
manding officer  had  gone  off  somewhere,  and  was 


26  The  Page  Story  Book 

not  in  camp  that  night,  and  there  were  so  many 
men  stirring  about  that  they  did  not  dare  to  wait. 
They  determined,  therefore,  to  capture  some 
horses  and  return.  They  were  looking  over  the 
lines  of  horses  to  take  their  pick  when  they  were 
discovered.  Each  man  had  selected  a  horse  and 
was  trying  to  get  him,  when  the  alarm  was  given, 
and  they  were  fired  on.  They  had  only  time  to 
cut  the  halters  when  the  camp  began  to  pour  out. 
Flinging  themselves  on  the  horses'  backs,  they 
dashed  out  under  a  fusillade,  firing  right  and  left. 
They  took  to  the  road,  but  it  had  been  picketed, 
and  they  had  to  dash  through  the  men  who  held 
it  under  a  fire  poured  into  their  faces.  All  had 
passed  safely  except  one,  whose  horse  had  become 
unmanageable  and  had  run  away,  flying  the  track 
and  taking  to  the  fields. 

.y  He  was,  they  agreed,  the  finest  horse  in  the  lot, 
and  his  rider  had  had  great  trouble  getting  him, 
and  had  lingered  so  long  that  he  came  near  being 
captured.  He  had  finally  cut  the  halter,  and  had 
cut  it  too  short  to  hold  by. 

They  had  great  fun  laughing  at  their  comrade, 
and  the  figure  he  cut  as  his  barebacked  horse 
dashed  off  into  the  darkness,  with  him  swinging 
to  the  mane.  He  had  shortly  been  dragged  off 
of  him  in  the  woods,  and  when  he  appeared  in 
camp,  next  day,  he  looked  as  if  he  had  been  run 
through  a  mill.  His  eyes  were  nearly  scratched 


"Jack  and  Jake"  27 

out  of  his  head,  and  his  uniform  was  torn  into 
shreds. 

The  young  fellow,  who  still  showed  the  marks 
of  his  bruising,  took  the  chaffing  good-naturedly, 
and  confessed  that  he  had  nearly  lost  his  life  try- 
ing to  hold  on  to  his  captive.  He  had  been  down 
into  the  woods  the  next  day  to  try  and  get  his 
horse,  though  it  was  the  other  side  of  the  little 
river,  and  really  within  the  Federal  lines.  But 
though  he  caught  sight  of  him,  it  was  only  a 
glimpse.  The  animal  was  much  too  wild  to  be 
caught,  and  the  only  thing  he  received  for  his 
pains  was  a  grazing  shot  from  a  picket,  who  had 
caught  sight  of  him  prowling  around,  and  had 
sent  a  ball  through  his  cap. 

n 

Jack,  full  of  excitement  over  the  story  of  the 
young  soldiers,  determined  to  capture  the  wild 
horse  himself.  Of  course,  he  took  Jake  into  his 
plans.  Next  day,  armed  with  musket,  axe,  rope, 
and  provided  with  corn,  they  set  out  for  the  woods 
where  they  supposed  the  horse  to  be. 

The  river  had  to  be  crossed,  and  the  only  bridge 
and  the  ford  were  picketed  by  the  Yankees.  Jack 
could  swim  but  little,  and  Jake  not  a  stroke.  At 
length  they  found  a  tree  which  had  fallen  into 
the  water,  but  had  fallen  just  short  of  bridging 


28  The  Page  Story  Book 

the  deepest  part  of  the  river  next  to  the  opposite 
bank.  The  boys  completed  the  bridge  with  poles, 
so  that,  with  care,  they  were  able  to  "  coon  it " 
across — that  is,  crawl  over  on  hands  and  knees. 

The  boys  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  horse  gal- 
loping through  the  forest.  They  also  found  the 
place  where  he  was  apparently  accustomed  to 
feed,  a  damp,  grassy  spot  in  a  ravine.  Here  was 
a  deep  gully,  with  sheer  banks  on  either  side,  and 
coming  together  in  front.  At  the  one  entrance 
to  this  gully  the  boys  set  poles  in  such  a  way  that 
the  horse  could  crowd  between  them,  springing 
them  apart;  but  once  through,  they  would  close 
behind  him  and  prevent  his  escape.  This  trap 
they  baited  bountifully  with  corn. 

The  boys  had  some  difficulty  in  keeping  their 
secret.  Jack  had  smilingly  told  his  mother,  on 
being  questioned,  that  they  were  "  setting  traps  " 
in  the  woods.  41 

After  three  or  four  days,  the  trap  having  failed 
to  work  the  first  time,  the  boys  were  rewarded 
to  find  the  horse  a  captive.  He  was  a  dangerous 
animal,  rearing  and  jumping  in  his  efforts  to  get 
free.  It  was  unsafe  to  go  inside  the  trap  to  bridle 
him.  Finally  Jack  succeeded  in  lassoing  him, 
and  thus  subduing  him  so  that  he  was  able  to 
get  the  bridle  on  his  head.  But  he  was  still  too 
wild  to  take  out,  and  it  was  late.  So  the  boys 
left  him  there  in  the  trap. 


"Jack  and  Jake"  29 

The  next  afternoon  the  boys  set  out,  determined 
this  time  to  bring  their  captive  home.  They  did 
not  go  until  late,  for  it  would  be  easier  to  pass 
the  pickets  on  the  road  to  the  river  in  the  dark 
than  in  the  daylight.  But  when  they  came  to 
their  trap,  it  was  empty!  The  horse  had  not 
broken  out,  but  had  been  taken  away  by  some 
one.  The  poles  were  thrown  away,  and  there 
were  men's  tracks  all  about. 

Jack  soon  discovered  the  horse's  tracks  leading 
straight  toward  the  clearing  where  the  picket 
was.  With  Jake  following,  he  crept  to  the  very 
edge  of  the  opening,  where  he  counted  five  men 
and  six  horses.  One  horse  must  be  his.  Jack 
crept  closer,  until  he  could  plainly  hear  the  men 
talking  about  the  valuable  horse  which  they  had 
captured.  It  was  suggested  that  they  should  play 
cards  for  the  horse,  the  winner  to  have  the  whole 
of  him.  So  they  began  their  play  in  the  moon- 
light. 

Jack  could  now  make  out  his  horse  standing 
tied  near  the  cabin,  on  the  outside  of  the  others. 
He  could  see,  in  the  moonlight,  that  he  was  tied 
with  a  rope.  He  crept  back  to  Jake,  and  together 
they  went  farther  down  into  the  woods  to  consult. 
Jack  had  a  plan,  which  he  unfolded  to  Jake,  but 
Jake  was  obdurate.  "  Nor,  sah,  he  warn'  gwine 
'mong  dem  Yankees.  Yankees  ketch  him  and 
shoot  him.  He  was  gwine  home.  Mammy'd 


30  The  Page  Story  Book 

whup  him  if  he  didn';  she  mought  whup  him 
anyway."  Jack  pleaded  and  promised,  but  it  was 
useless.  He  explained  to  Jake  that  they  could 
ride  home  quicker  than  they  could  walk.  It  was 
of  no  avail.  Jake  recalled  that  there  was  a 
Yankee  picket  near  the  bridge,  and  that  was  the 
only  place  a  horse  could  cross  since  the  ford  was 
stopped  up.  Finally  Jack  had  to  let  Jake  go. 

He  told  him  not  to  say  anything  at  home  as 
to  where  he  was,  which  Jake  promised,  and  Jack 
helped  him  across  the  poles  at  the  tree,  and  then 
went  back  alone  to  the  clearing.  He  crept  up  as 
before.  The  men  were  still  playing  cards,  and 
he  could  hear  them  swearing  and  laughing  over 
their  ill  or  good  luck.  One  of  them  looked  at 
his  watch.  The  relief  would  be  along  in  twenty 
minutes.  Jack's  heart  beat.  He  had  no  time  to 
lose.  He  cut  himself  a  stout  switch.  He  made 
a  little  detour,  and  went  around  the  other  side 
of  the  clearing,  so  as  to  get  the  horse  between  him 
and  the  men.  This  put  him  on  the  side  toward 
the  camp,  as  the  men  were  on  the  path  which  led 
to  the  bridge.  Without  stopping,  he  crept  up  to 
the  open  space.  Then  he  flung  himself  on  his 
face,  and  began  to  crawl  up  through  the  weeds 
toward  the  horses,  stopping  every  now  and  then 
to  listen  to  the  men.  As  he  drew  near,  one  or  two 
of  the  horses  got  alarmed  and  began  to  twist,  and 
one  of  them  gave  a  snort  of  fear.  Jack  heard 


"Jack  and  Jake"  31 

the  men  discussing  it,  and  one  of  them  say  he 
would  go  and  see  what  was  the  matter.  Jack  lay 
flat  in  the  weeds,  and  his  heart  almost  stopped 
with  fright  as  he  heard  the  man  coming  around 
the  house.  He  could  see  him  through  the  weeds, 
and  he  had  his  gun  in  his  hands.  He  seemed  to 
be  coming  right  to  Jack,  and  he  gave  himself  up 
as  lost.  He  could  hear  his  heart  thumping  so, 
he  was  sure  the  man  must  hear  it  too.  He  would 
have  sprung  up  and  cut  for  the  woods,  .if  he  had 
had  the  slightest  chance,  and  as  it  was,  he  came 
near  giving  himself  up;  but  though  the  man 
seemed  to  be  looking  right  toward  him,  Jack  was 
fortunately  so  concealed  by  the  weeds  that  he  did 
not  observe  him.  He  went  up  to  Jack's  horse 
and  examined  the  rope.  "  Tain't  nothing  but  this 
new  horse,"  he  called  out  to  his  comrades.  "  He 
just  wanted  to  see  his  master.  I'll  put  my  saddle 
on  him  now,  boys.  I've  got  him  so  certain,  and 
I  mean  to  let  him  know  he's  got  a  master."  He 
changed  the  saddle  and  bridle  from  another  horse 
to  that,  and  then  went  back  to  his  comrades,  who 
were  all  calling  to  him  to  come  along,  and  were 
accusing  him  of  trying  to  take  up  the  time  until 
the  relief  came,  because  he  was  ahead,  and  did 
not  want  to  play  more  and  give  them  a  chance 
to  win  the  horse  back. 

Jack  lay  still  for  a  minute,  and  then  took  a 
peep  at  the  men,  who  were  all  busily  playing. 


32  The  Page  Story  Book 

Then  he  crept  up.  As  soon  as  he  was  out  of 
sight,  he  sprang  to  his  feet  and  walked  boldly 
up  to  the  horse,  caught  him  by  the  bit,  and  with 
a  stroke  of  his  knife  cut  the  rope  almost  in  two 
close  up  to  his  head.  Then  he  climbed  up  on  him, 
gathered  up  the  reins,  fixed  his  feet  in  the  stirrup 
leathers,  bent  over,  and  with  a  single  stroke  cut 
the  rope  and  turned  him  toward  the  bridge.  The 
horse  began  to  rear  and  jump.  Jack  heard  the 
men  stop  talking,  and  one  of  them  say,  "  That 
horse  is  loose !  "  Another  one  said,  "  I'll  go  and 
see."  Another  said,  "  There's  the  relief."  Jack 
looked  over  his  shoulder.  There  came  a  half- 
dozen  men  on  horses.  There  was  no  time  to  lose. 
Lifting  his  switch  above  his  head,  Jack  struck  the 
horse  a  lick  with  all  his  might,  and,  with  a  bound 
which  nearly  threw  Jack  out  of  his  seat,  he  dashed 
out  into  the  moonlight  straight  for  the  road. 
"  He's  loose !  there's  a  man  on  him !  "  shouted  the 
men,  springing  to  their  feet.  Jack  leaned  for- 
ward on  his  neck  and  gave  him  the  switch  just 
as  a  volley  was  fired  at  him.  Pop,  pop,  pop,  pop 
went  the  pistols,  and  the  balls  flew  whistling 
about  Jack's  head;  but  he  was  leaning  far  for- 
ward, and  was  untouched.  Under  the  lash  the 
horse  went  flying  down  the  path  across  the  little 
field. 

Jack  had  often  run  races  on  colts,  but  he  had 
never  ridden  such  a  race  as  that.    The  wind  blew 


"Jack  and  Jake"  33 

whistling  by  him;  the  leaves  of  the  bushes  over 
the  path  cut  him,  hissing  as  he  dashed  along.  If 
he  could  pass  the  picket  where  the  path  struck  the 
road  near  the  bridge,  he  would  be  safe.  The  path 
was  on  an  incline  near  the  road,  and  was  on  a 
straight  line  with  the  bridge,  so  he  had  a  straight 
dash  for  it.  The  picket  was  just  beyond  the  fork. 
Jack  had  often  seen  them.  There  were  generally 
two  men  on  the  bridge,  and  a  pole  was  laid  across 
the  railing  of  the  bridge  near  the  other  side.  But 
Jack  did  not  think  of  that  now ;  he  thought  only 
of  the  men  galloping  behind  him  on  his  track. 
He  could  not  have  stopped  the  horse  if  he  would, 
but  he  had  no  idea  of  trying  it.  He  was  near  the 
bridge,  and  his  only  chance  was  to  dash  by  the 
picket.  Down  the  path  he  went  as  straight  as 
an  arrow,  his  splendid  horse  leaping  under  his 
light  weight — down  the  path  like  a  bullet  through 
the  dusk  of  the  woods.  The  sleepy  picket  had 
heard  the  firing  at  the  clearing  up  on  the  hill, 
and  had  got  ready  to  stop  whomever  it  might  be. 
They  were  standing  in  the  road,  with  their  guns 
ready.  They  could  not  make  it  out.  It  was  only 
a  single  horse  coming  tearing  down  toward  them. 
"  Halt !  halt !  "  they  called,  before  Jack  was  in 
sight;  but  it  was  idle.  Down  the  path  the  horse 
came  flying — Jack  with  his  feet  in  the  stirrup 
leathers,  his  hands  wrapped  in  the  bridle  reins, 
his  body  bent  forward  on  his  horse's  neck,  and 


34  The  Page  Story  Book 

clucking  his  tongue  out.  In  one  bound  the  horse 
was  in  the  road.  "Halt!"  Bang!  bang!  went 
the  guns  in  his  very  face.  But  he  was  flying.  A 
dozen  leaps,  and  he  was  thundering  across  the 
bridge.  Jack  was  conscious  only  that  a  dark 
form  stood  in  the  middle,  throwing  up  its  arms. 
It  was  but  a  second;  he  saw  it  shot  out  into  the 
water  as  if  struck  by  a  steam-engine.  His  horse 
gave  one  splendid  leap,  and  the  next  minute  he 
was  tearing  up  the  road  toward  home,  through 
the  quiet  woods,  which  gave  no  sound  but  that 
of  his  rushing  stride. 

Jack  had  one  moment  of  supreme  delight.  His 
mother  had  got  somewhat  anxious  about  him, 
and  they  were  all  on  the  front  porch  when  he 
galloped  up  into  the  yard,  his  beautiful  bay  now 
brought  down  under  perfect  control,  but  yet  full 
of  life  and  spirit.  As  they  ran  to  meet  him,  Jack 
sprang  from  the  saddle  and  presented  the  horse 
to  his  mother. 

in 

The  next  day  Jack's  mother  called  him  into 
her  room.  She  took  him  by  the  hand.  "  My 
son,"  she  said,  "  I  want  you  to  carry  the  horse 
back  and  return  him  to  the  Yankee  camp." 

Jack  was  aghast.  "  Why,  mamma,  he's  my 
horse;  that  is,  he  is  yours.  I  found  him,  and 
caught  him  and  gave  him  to  you." 


"Jack  and  Jake"  35 

His  mother  explained  to  him  her  reasons.  She 
did  not  think  it  was  right  for  him  to  keep  the 
horse  obtained  in  such  a  way.  Jack  argued  that 
he  had  found  the  horse  running  wild  in  their  own 
woods,  and  did  not  know  his  owner.  This  made 
no  difference;  she  told  him  the  horse  had  an 
owner.  He  argued  that  the  soldiers  took  horses, 
had  taken  all  of  theirs,  and  that  their  own  soldiers 
— the  gentlemen  who  had  come  to  tea — had  been 
over  and  taken  a  lot  from  the  camp.  His  mother 
explained  to  him  that  that  was  different.  They 
were  all  soldiers  wearing  uniforms,  engaged 
openly  in  war.  What  they  took  was  capture; 
Jack  was  not  a  soldier,  and  was  not  treated  as 
one.  Jack  told  her  how  he  had  been  shot  at  and 
chased.  She  was  firm.  She  wished  the  horse 
returned,  and  though  Jack  wept  a  little,  for  the 
joint  reason  of  having  to  give  up  the  horse  and 
the  mortification  of  restoring  it  to  the  Yankees, 
he  obeyed.  He  had  some  doubt  whether  he  would 
not  be  captured;  but  his  mother  said  she  would 
write  a  letter  to  the  commanding  officer  over 
there,  explaining  why  she  returned  the  horse,  and 
this  would  be  safe-conduct.  She  had  known  the 
Colonel  before  the  war,  and  he  had  once  stopped 
at  her  house  after  a  little  battle  beyond  them. 
Colonel  Wilson  had,  in  fact,  once  been  a  lover  of 
hers. 

The  idea  of  going  with  a  safe-conduct  was 


36  The  Page  Story  Book 

rather  soothing  to  Jack's  feelings ;  it  sounded  like 
a  man.  So  he  went  and  fed  the  horse.  Then  he 
went  and  asked  Jake  to  go  with  him.  Jake  was 
very  doubtful.  He  was  afraid  of  the  Yankees 
catching  him.  The  glory  of  Jack's  capture  the 
night  before  had,  however,  given  Jack  great  pres- 
tige, and  when  Jack  told  him  about  the  letter  his 
mother  was  going  to  write  as  a  safe-conduct — 
like  a  "  pass,"  he  explained — Jake  agreed  to  go, 
but  only  on  condition  that  he  might  carry  the 
pass.  To  this  Jack  consented.  It  was  late  in  the 
afternoon  when  they  started,  for  the  horse  had 
to  be  broken  to  carry  double,  and  he  was  very 
lively.  Both  Jack  and  Jake  went  off  again  and 
again.  At  last,  however,  they  got  him  steady, 
and  set  out,  Jack  in  the  saddle,  and  Jake  behind 
him  clinging  on.  Jake  had  the  letter  safe  in  his 
pocket  for  their  protection.  They  had  a  beautiful 
ride  through  the  woods,  and  Jack  remembered  the 
glorious  race  he  had  had  there  the  night  before. 
As  they  approached  the  bridge,  Jack  thought  of 
tying  his  handkerchief  on  a  stick  as  a  flag  of 
truce;  but  he  was  not  sure,  as  he  was  not  a  real 
soldier,  he  ought  to  do  so.  He  therefore  rode 
slowly  on.  He  pictured  to  himself  the  surprise 
the  men  would  have  when  he  rode  up,  and  they 
recognized  the  horse,  and  learned  that  he  had 
captured  it. 

This  feeling  almost  did  away  with  the  mortifi- 


"Jack  and  Jake"  37 

cation  of  having  to  return  it.  He  rode  slowly  as 
he  neared  the  bridge,  for  he  did  not  want  them 
to  think  he  was  a  soldier  and  shoot  at  him.  Jack 
was  surprised  when  he  got  to  the  bridge  to  find 
no  men  there.  He  rode  across,  and  not  caring  to 
keep  up  the  main  road,  turned  up  the  path  toward 
the  clearing.  He  rode  cautiously.  His  horse  sud- 
denly shied,  and  Jack  was  startled  by  some  one 
springing  out  of  the  bushes  before  him  and  call- 
ing "  Halt !  "  as  he  flung  up  his  gun.  Jake 
clutched  him,  and  Jack  halted.  Several  men  sur- 
rounded them,  and  ordered  them  to  get  down. 
They  slipped  off  the  horse,  and  one  of  the  men 
took  it.  They  all  had  guns. 

"  Why,  this  is  the  Colonel's  thoroughbred,  that 
was  stolen  two  weeks  ago  1  "  declared  one  of  the 
men.  "  Where  did  you  steal  this  horse?  "  asked 
another  of  them  roughly. 

"  We  did  not  steal  him,"  asserted  Jack  hotly. 
"  We  found  him,  and  caught  him  in  the 
woods." 

"  You  hear  that  ?  "  The  man  turned  to  his 
comrades.  "  Come,  little  Johnnie,  don't  tell  lies. 
We've  got  you,  and  you  were  riding  a  stolen 
horse,  and  there  were  several  others  stolen  at  the 
same  time.  You'd  better  tell  the  truth,  and  mabfc 
a  clean  breast  of  it,  if  you  know  what's  good  for 
you." 

Jack  indignantly  denied  that  he  had  stolen  the 

451767 


38  The  Page  Story  Book 

horse,  and  told  how  they  had  caught  him  and 
were  bringing  him  back.  He  had  a  letter  from 
his  mother  to  Colonel  Wilson,  he  asserted,  to 
prove  it. 

"  Where  is  the  letter?  "  they  asked. 

Jack  turned  to  Jake.  "  Jake's  got  it  in  his 
pocket." 

"  Yes,  I  got  de  pass,"  declared  Jake,  feeling 
in  his  pocket.  He  felt  first  in  one,  and  then  in 
another.  His  countenance  fell.  "  Hi !  I  done 
los'  it,"  he  asserted 

The  soldiers  laughed.  That  was  a  little  too 
thin,  they  declared.  Come,  they  must  go  with 
them.  They  proposed  to  put  a  stop  to  this  horse- 
stealing.  It  had  been  going  on  long  enough.  A 
horse  was  stolen  only  last  night,  and  the  man 
had  run  over  one  of  the  pickets  on  the  bridge, 
and  had  knocked  him  into  the  river  and  drowned 
him.  They  were  glad  to  find  who  it  was. 

Jack  felt  very  bad.  Jake  came  close  up  to  him 
and  began  to  whisper.  "  Jack,  what  dey  gwine 
do  wid  us  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Hang  you,  you  black  little  horse-stealing 
imp ! "  said  one  of  the  men  with  a  terrific  force. 
"  Cut  you  up  into  little  pieces !  " 

The  others  laughed.  Men  are  often  not  very 
considerate  to  children.  They  do  not  realize  how 
helpless  children  feel  in  their  power.  Both  Jack 
and  Jake  turned  pale. 


"Jack  and  Jake"  39 

Jake  was  ashy.  "  Jack,  I  tole  you  not  to 
come !  "  he  cried. 

Jack  acknowledged  the  truth  of  this.  He  had 
it  on  his  tongue's  end  to  say,  "  What  did  you  lose 
the  letter  for  ?  "  but  he  did  not.  He  felt  that  as 
his  father's  son  he  must  be  brave.  He  just  walked 
close  to  Jake  and  touched  him.  "  Don't  be 
scared,"  he  whispered.  "  We  will  get  away." 

Just  then  one  of  the  men  caught  Jake  and 
twisted  his  arm  a  little.  Jake  gave  a  little  whine 
of  fright.  In  an  instant  Jack  snatched  a  gun 
from  a  man  near  by  him,  and  cocking  it,  levelled 
it  at  the  soldier.  "  Let  Jake  go,  or  I'll  blow  your 
brains  out !  "  he  said. 

A  hand  seized  him  from  behind,  and  the  gun 
was  jerked  out  of  his  hand.  It  went  off,  but  the 
bullet  flew  over  their  head's.  There  was  no  more 
twisting  of  Jake's  arm,  however.  The  soldiers, 
after  this,  made  them  march  along  between  them. 
They  carried  them  to  the  clearing  where  the  old 
house  was,  and  where  some  of  their  comrades 
were  on  guard  awaiting  them.  They  marched  the 
boys  up  to  the  fire.  "  We've  got  the  little  horse- 
thieves,"  they  declared.  "  They  were  coming 
over  after  another  horse;  but  I  guess  we'll  break 
it  up  now." 

"  Why,  they  are  mighty  little  fellows  to  be 
horse-thieves,"  said  one. 

"  They  are  the  worst  kind,"  declared  the  other. 


40  The  Page  Story  Book 

11  Must  be  right  bad,  then,  corporal,  for  you 
are  pretty  handy  yourself,"  declared  a  comrade. 

"  We  are  not  any  horse-thieves,"  asserted  Jack. 
"  We  found  this  horse." 

"  Shut  up !  "  ordered  one  of  his  captors.  They 
began  to  talk  about  what  they  would  do  with 
them.  Several  methods  of  securing  them  were 
proposed,  and  it  was  finally  determined  to  lock 
them  up  in  the  loft  of  the  old  cabin  till  morning, 
when  they  would  carry  them  to  camp,  and  the 
Colonel  would  make  proper  disposition  of  them. 

"  Can't  they  get  away  in  there  ?  "  asked  one 
man. 

"  No ;  there  is  a  bolt  on  the  outside  of  the 
door,"  said  another.  "  Besides,  we  are  all  down 
here." 

They  were  accordingly  taken  and  carried  into 
the  house  and  up  the  rickety  old  stairs  to  the 
loft,  where  they  were  left  on  the  bare  floor  with 
a  single  blanket.  It  was  quite  dark  in  there,  and 
Jack  felt  very  low  down  as  he  heard  the  bolt 
pushed  into  the  staple  on  the  outside.  Jake  was 
crying,  and  Jack  could  not  help  sobbing  a  little 
himself.  He  had,  however,  to  comfort  Jake,  so 
he  soon  stopped,  and  applied  himself  to  this  work. 
The  only  comfort  Jake  took  was  in  his  assurance 
that  he  would  get  him  out. 

"  How  you  gwine  do  it  ?  "  asked  Jake. 

"  Never  mind,  I'll  do  it,"  declared  Jack,  though 


"Jack  and  Jake"  41 

he  had  no  idea  how  he  was  to  make  good  his 
word.  He  had  taken  good  notice  of  the  outside 
of  the  cabin,  and  now  he  began  to  examine  the 
inside.  As  his  eyes  became  accustomed  to  the 
darkness,  he  could  see  better,  and  as  they  were 
barefooted,  they  could  walk  about  without  any 
noise.  The  old  roof  was  full  of  holes,  and  they 
could  see  the  sky  grow  white  with  the  rising 
moon.  There  was  an  old  window  in  one  end 
of  the  loft.  There  were  holes  in  the  side,  and 
looking  out,  Jack  could  see  the  men  sitting  about, 
and  hear  their  voices.  Jack  tried  the  window; 
it  was  nailed  down.  He  examined  it  carefully, 
as  he  did  every  other  part  of  the  room.  He  de- 
cided that  he  could  cut  the  window  out  in  less 
time  than  he  could  cut  a  hole  through  the  roof. 

He  would  have  tried  the  bolt,  but  some  of  the 
men  were  asleep  in  the  room  below,  and  they 
could  not  pass  them.  If  they  could  get  out  of 
the  window,  they  might  climb  down  the  chimney. 
He  had  nothing  but  his  old  pocket-knife,  and  un- 
fortunately a  blade  of  that  was  broken;  but  the 
other  was  good.  He  told  Jake  his  plan,  who  did 
not  think  much  of  it.  Jack  thought  it  was  bed- 
time, so  he  knelt  down  and  said  his  prayers. 
When  he  prayed  for  his  mother  he  felt  very 
bad,  and  a  few  tears  stole  out  of  his  eyes. 
When  he  was  done,  Jack  began  to  work.  He 
worked  carefully  and  quietly  at  first,  making  a 


42  The  Page  Story  Book 

cut  or  two,  and  then  listening  to  see  if  any  one 
stirred  below.  This  was  slow  work,  and  after 
a  while  he  began  to  cut  harder  and  faster.  It 
showed  so  very  little  that  he  presently  got  im- 
patient, and  dug  his  knife  deeper  into  the  plank. 
It  took  a  good  hold,  he  gave  a  vigorous  pull,  and 
the  blade  snapped  off  in  the  middle.  It  made  so 
much  noise  that  one  of  the  men  below  asked : 

"What  are  those  boys  doin'  upstairs  there? 
They  ain't  tryin'  to  git  away,  yo'  s'pose,  are  they  ? 
If  so,  we  better  fetch  'em  down  here." 

Jack  flung  himself  down  beside  Jake  and  held 
his  breath.  The  soldiers  listened,  and  then  one 
of  them  said  : 

«."  Oh,  no,  'tain't  nothin'  but  rats.  They're  fast 
asleep,  I  guess." 

Jack  almost  gave  himself  up  for  lost,  for  he 
now  had  only  his  broken  blade ;  but  after  a  while 
he  went  at  it  again,  more  carefully.  He  could 
see  that  he  was  making  headway  now,  and  he 
kept  on  cutting.  Jake  went  fast  asleep  in  the 
blanket,  but  Jack  kept  on.  After  a  time  he  had 
nearly  cut  out  one  of  the  planks;  he  could  get 
a  hold  on  it  and  feel  it  give.  At  this  point  his 
impatience  overcame  him.  He  took  hold  and  gave 
a  wrench.  The  plank  broke  with  a  noise  which 
startled  not  only  Jake  lying  in  his  blanket,  but 
the  men  below,  one  or  two  of  whom  sprang  up. 
They  began  to  discuss  the  noise. 


"Jack  and  Jake  "  43 

"  That  warn't  no  rats,"  said  one.  "  Them  boys 
is  trying  to  git  out.  I  heard  the  window  open. 
Go  and  see  what  they  are  doing,"  he  said  to  his 
comrade. 

Jack  held  his  breath. 

"  You  go  yourself,"  said  he.  "  I  say  it's 
rats." 

"  Rats !  You've  got  rats !  "  said  the  other. 
"  I'll  go,  just  to  show  you  'tain't  rats." 

He  got  up,  and  taking  a  torch,  came  to  the 
stair.  Jack  felt  his  heart  jump  up  in  his  mouth. 
He  just  had  time  to  stuff  his  hat  into  the  hole 
he  had  made,  to  shut  out  the  sky,  and  to  fling 
himself  down  beside  Jake  and  roll  up  in  the 
blanket,  when  the  bolt  was  pulled  back  and  the  man 
entered.  He  held  the  torch  high  above  his  head 
and  looked  around.  Jack  felt  his  hair  rise.  He 
could  hear  his  heart  thumping,  and  was  sure  the 
man  heard  it  too.  Jake  stirred.  Jack  clutched 
him  and  held  him.  The  man  looked  at  them. 
The  flame  flickered  and  died,  the  man  went  out, 
the  bolt  grated  in  the  staple,  and  the  man  went 
down  the  shaky  stair. 

"  Well,  you  are  right  for  once,"  Jack  heard 
him  say.  "  Must  have  been  rats.  They  are  both 
fast  asleep  on  the  floor." 

Jack  waited  till  the  talk  died  away,  and  then 
he  went  to  work  again.  He  had  learned  a  lesson 
by  this  time,  and  he  worked  carefully.  At  last 


44 

he  had  the  hole  big  enough  to  creep  through.  It 
was  right  over  the  shoulder  of  the  rickety  old  log 
chimney,  and  by  making  a  quick  turn  he  could 
1  catch  hold  of  the  "  chinking  "  and  climb  down 
by  it.  He  could  see  the  men  outside,  but  the 
chimney  would  be  partly  between  them,  and  as 
they  climbed  down  the  shadow  would,  he  be- 
lieved, conceal  them.  He  did  not  know  how  long 
he  had  been  working,  so  he  thought  it  best  not 
to  wait  any  longer.  Therefore,  after  taking  a 
peep  through  the  cracks  down  on  the  men  below, 
and  finding  them  all  asleep,  he  began  to  wake 
Jake.  Having  got  him  awake,  he  lay  down  by 
him  and  whispered  his  plans  to  him.  He  would 
go  first  to  test  the  chimney,  and  then  Jake  would 
come.  They  were  not  to  speak  under  any  circum- 
stances, and  if  either  slipped,  they  were  to  lie 
perfectly  still.  The  blanket — except  one  piece, 
which  he  cut  off  and  hung  over  the  hole  to  hide 
the  sky,  in  case  the  men  should  come  up  and  look 
for  them — was  to  be  taken  along  with  them  to 
fling  over  them  if  their  flight  should  be  discov- 
ered. The  soldiers  might  think  it  just  one  of 
their  blankets.  After  they  got  to  the  woods,  they 
were  to  make  for  their  tree.  If  they  were  pur- 
sued, they  were  to  lie  down  under  bushes  and  not 
speak  or  move.  Having  arranged  everything, 
and  fastened  the  piece  of  blanket  so  that  it  hung 
loosely  over  the  hole,  allowing  them  to  get 


"Jack  and  Jake"  45 

through,  Jack  crawled  out  of  the  window  and  let 
himself  down  by  his  hands.  His  bare  feet 
touched  the  shoulder  of  the  chimney,  and  letting 
go,  he  climbed  carefully  down.  Jake  was  already 
coming  out  of  the  window.  Jack  thought  he 
heard  a  noise,  and  crept  around  the  house  through 
the  weeds  to  see  what  it  was.  It  was  only  a 
horse,  and  he  was  turning  back,  when  he  heard 
a  great  racket  and  scrambling,  and  with  a  tre- 
mendous thump  Jake  came  tumbling  down  from 
the  chimney  into  the  weeds.  He  had  the  breath 
all  knocked  out  of  him,  and  lay  quite  still.  Jack 
heard  some  one  say,  "  What  on  earth  was  that?  " 
and  he  had  only  time  to  throw  the  blanket  over 
Jake  and  drop  down  into  the  weeds  himself,  when 
he  heard  the  man  come  striding  around  the  house. 
He  had  his  gun  in  his  hand.  He  passed  right  by 
him,  between  him  and  the  dark  blanket  lying  in 
the  corner.  He  stopped,  and  looked  all  around. 
He  was  not  ten  feet  from  him,  and  was  right  over 
the  blanket  under  which  Jake  lay.  He  actually 
stooped  over,  as  if  he  was  going  to  pull  the 
blanket  off  of  Jake,  and  Jack  gave  himself  up  for 
lost.  But  the  man  passed  on,  and  Jack  heard 
him  talking  to  his  comrades  about  the  curious 
noise.  They  decided  that  it  must  have  been  a 
gun  which  burst  somewhere.  Jack's  heart  was 
in  his  mouth  about  Jake.  He  wondered  if  he  was 
killed.  He  was  about  to  crawl  up  to  him,  when 


46  The  Page  Story  Book 

the  blanket  stirred  and  Jake's  head  peeped  out, 
then  went  back. 

"  Jake,  oh,  Jake,  are  you  dead  ?  "  asked  Jack 
in  a  whisper. 

"  I  dun  know ;  b'lieve  I  is,"  answered  Jake. 
"  Mos'  dead,  anyway." 

"  No,  you  ain't.    Is  your  leg  broke?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  No,  'tain't,"  encouraged  Jack.  "  Waggle 
your  toe ;  can  you  waggle  your  toe  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  some,  little  bit,"  whispered  Jake,  kick- 
ing under  the  blanket. 

"  Waggle  your  other  toe — waggle  all  your 
toes,"  whispered  Jack. 

The  blanket  acted  as  if  some  one  was  having 
a  fit  under  it. 

"  Your  leg  ain't  broke;  you  are  all  right,"  said 
Jack.  "  Come  on." 

Jake  insisted  that  his  leg  was  broken,  and  that 
he  could  not  walk. 

"  Crawl,"  said  Jack,  creeping  up  to  him. 
"  Come  on,  like  Injins.  It's  getting  day." 

He  started  off  through  the  weeds,  and  Jake 
crawled  after  him.  His  ankle  was  sprained,  how- 
ever, and  the  briers  were  thick,  and  he  made  slow 
progress,  so  Jack  crawled  along  by  him  through 
the  weeds,  helping  him. 

They  were  about  half-way  across  the  little 
clearing  when  they  heard  a  noise  behind  them. 


"Jack  and  Jake  "  47 

Lights  were  moving  about  in  the  house,  -and,  look- 
ing back,  Jack  saw  men  moving  around  the  house, 
and  a  man  poked  his  head  out  of  the  window. 

"  Here's  where  they  escaped,"  they  called.  An- 
other man  below  the  window  called  out,  "  Here's 
their  track,  where  they  went.  They  cannot  have 
gone  far.  We  can  catch  them."  They  started 
toward  them.  It  was  the  supreme  moment. 

"  Run,  Jake ;  run  for  the  woods ! "  cried  Jack, 
springing  to  his  feet  and  pulling  Jake  up. 

They  struck  out.  Jake  was  limping,  however, 
and  Jack  put  his  arm  under  him  and  supported 
him  along.  They  heard  a  cry  behind  them, 
"  There  they  go !  catch  them !  "  But  they  were 
almost  at  the  woods,  and  a  second  later  they  were 
dashing  through  the  bushes,  heading  straight  for 
their  crossing  at  the  old  tree.  After  a  time  they 
had  to  slow  up,  for  Jake's  ankle  pained  him.  Jack 
carried  him  on  his  back;  but  he  was  so  heavy  he 
had  frequently  to  rest,  and  it  was  broad  day  be- 
fore they  got  near  the  river.  They  kept  on,  how- 
ever, and  after  a  time  reached  the  stream.  There 
Jake  declared  he  could  not  cross  the  poles. 
Jack  urged  him,  and  told  him  he  would  help  him 
across.  He  showed  him  how.  Jake  was  unstrung, 
and  could  not  try  it.  He  sat  down  and  cried. 
Jack  said  he  would  go  home  and  bring  him  help. 
Jake  thought  this  best.  Jack  crawled  over  the 
pole,  and  was  nearly  across,  when,  looking  back, 


48  The  Page  Story  Book 

he  saw  a  number  of  soldiers  on  the  hill  riding 
through  the  woods. 

"  Come  on,  Jake ;  here  they  come !  "  he  called. 
The  soldiers  saw  him  at  the  same  moment,  and 
some  of  them  started  down  the  hill.  A  shot  or 
two  were  fired  toward  them.  Jake  began  to  cry. 
Jack  was  safe,  but  he  turned  and  crawled  back 
over  the  pole  toward  him.  "  Come  on,  Jake ; 
they  are  coming.  They  won't  hit  you — you  can 
get  over." 

Jake  started.  Jack  waited,  and  reached  out  his 
hand  to  him.  Jake  had  gotten  over  the  worst 
part,  when  his  foot  slipped,  and  with  a  cry  he 
went  down  into  the  water.  Jack  caught  his  hand, 
but  it  slipped  out  of  his  grasp.  He  came  up, 
with  his  arms  beating  wildly.  "  Help — help  me !  " 
he  cried,  and  went  down  again.  In  went  Jack, 
head  foremost,  and  caught  him  by  the  arm.  Jake 
clutched  him.  They  came  up.  Jack  thought 
he  had  him  safe.  "  I've  got  you,"  he  said. 
"  Don't — "  But  before  he  could  finish  the  sen- 
tence, Jake  flung  his  arm  around  his  neck  and 
choked  him,  pulling  him  down  under  the  water 
and  getting  it  into  his  throat  and  nostrils.  Jack 
struggled,  and  tried  to  get  up,  but  he  could  not; 
Jake  had  him  fast.  He  knew  he  was  drowning. 
He  remembered  being  down  on  the  bottom  of 
the  river  and  thinking  that  if  he  could  but  get 
Jake  to  the  top  again  he  would  be  safe.  He 


"Jack  and  Jake  "  49 

thought  that  the  Yankees  might  save  him. 
He  tried,  but  Jake  had  him  tight,  choking  him. 
He  thought  how  he  had  brought  him  there;  he 
thought  of  his  mother  and  father,  and  that  he 
had  not  seen  his  mother  that  morning,  and  had 
not  said  his  prayers,  and  then  he  did  not  know 
anything  more. 

The  next  thing  he  knew,  some  one  said,  "  He's 
all  right,"  and  he  heard  confused  voices,  and  was 
suffering  some  in  his  chest  and  throat,  and  he 
heard  his  mother's  voice,  and  opening  his  eyes,  he 
was  in  a  tent.  She  was  leaning  over  him,  crying, 
and  kissing  him,  and  there  were  several  gentle- 
men around  the  bed  he  was  on.  He  was  too 
weak  to  think  much,  but  he  felt  glad  that  his 
mother  was  there. 

"  I  went  back  after  Jake,"  he  said  faintly. 

"  Yes,  you  did,  like  a  man,"  said  a  gentleman 
in  an  officer's  uniform,  bending  over  him.  "  We 
saw  you." 

Jack  turned  from  him.  "  Mother,"  he  said, 
feebly,  "  we  carried  the  horse  back,  but " 

"  He  is  just  outside  the  door,"  said  the  same 
gentleman;  "he  belongs  to  you.  His  owner  has 
presented  him  to  you." 

"  To  me  and  Jake !  "  said  Jack.  "  Where  is 
Jake?  "  But  they  would  not  let  him  talk.  They 
made  him  go  to  sleep. 


KITTYKIN,   AND   THE   PART   SHE 
PLAYED  IN  THE  WAR 

KITTYKIN  was  about  five  months  old  when 
there  was  a  great  marching  of  soldiers  backward 
and  forward.  The  tents  in  the  field  beyond  the 
woods  wrere  taken  down  and  carried  away  in 
wagons,  and  there  was  an  immense  stir.  The 
army  was  said  to  be  "  moving."  There  were  ru- 
mors that  the  enemy  was  coming,  and  that  there 
might  be  a  battle  near  there.  Evelyn  was  so 
young  that  she  did  not  understand  any  more  of 
it  than  Kittykin  did ;  but  her  mother  appeared  so 
troubled  that  Evelyn  knew  it  was  very  bad,  and 
became  frightened,  though  she  did  not  know  why. 
Her  mammy  soon  gave  her  such  a  gloomy  ac- 
count, that  Evelyn  readily  agreed  with  her  that 
it  was  "  like  torment."  As  for  Kittykin,  if  she 
had  been  born  in  a  battle,  she  could  not  have  been 
more  unconcerned.  In  a  day  or  two  it  was  known 
that  the  main  body  of  the  army  was  some  little 
way  off  on  a  long  ridge,  and  that  the  enemy  had 
taken  up  its  position  on  another  hill  not  far  dis- 
tant, and  Evelyn's  home  was  between  them;  but 
there  was  no  battle.  Each  army  began  to  in- 
5° 


Kitty  kin  5 1 

trench  itself,  and  in  a  little  while  there  was  a  long 
red  bank  stretched  across  the  far  edge  of  the  great 
field  behind  the  house,  which  Evelyn  was  told 
was  "  breastworks  "  for  the  picket  line ;  and  she 
pointed  them  out  to  Kittykin,  who  blinked  and 
yawned  as  if  she  did  not  care  the  least  bit  if  they 
were. 

Next  morning  a  small  squadron  of  cavalry 
came  galloping  by.  A  body  of  the  enemy  had 
been  seen,  and  they  were  going  to  learn  what  it 
meant.  In  a  little  while  they  came  back. 

"  The  enemy,"  they  said,  "  were  advancing, 
and  there  would  probably  be  a  skirmish  right 
there  immediately." 

As  they  rode  by,  they  urged  Evelyn's  mamma 
either  to  leave  the  house  at  once  or  to  go  down 
into  the  basement,  where  they  might  be  safe  from 
the  bullets.  Then  they  galloped  on  across  the 
field  to  get  the  rest  of  their  men,  who  were  in 
the  trenches  beyond.  Before  they  reached  there 
a  lot  of  men  appeared  on  the  edge  of  the  wood 
in  front  of  the  house.  No  one  could  tell  how 
many  they  were;  but  the  sun  gleamed  on  their 
arms,  and  there  was  evidently  a  good  force.  At 
first  they  were  on  horseback;  but  there  was  a 
"  Bop !  bop ! "  from  the  trenches  in  the  field  be- 
hind the  house,  and  they  rode  back,  and  did  not 
come  out  any  more.  Next  morning,  however, 
they,  too,  had  dug  a  trench.  These,  Evelyn  heard 


52  The  Page  Story  Book 

some  one  say,  were  a  picket  line.  About  eleven 
o'clock  they  came  out  into  the  field,  and  they 
seemed  to  have  spread  themselves  out  behind  a 
little  rise  or  knoll  in  front  of  the  house.  Mammy's 
teeth  were  just  chattering,  and  she  went  to  moan- 
ing and  saying  her  prayers  as  hard  as  she  could ; 
and  Evelyn's  mamma  told  her  to  take  Evelyn 
down  into  the  basement,  and  she  would  bring  the 
"baby.  So  mammy,  who  had  been  following 
mamma  about,  seized  Evelyn  and  rushed  with  her 
downstairs,  where,  although  they  were  quite  safe, 
as  the  windows  were  only  half  above  the  ground, 
she  fell  on  her  face  on  the  floor,  praying  as  if 
her  last  hour  had  come.  "  Bop !  bop !  "  went  some 
muskets  up  behind  the  house.  "  Bang !  bop ! 
bang !  "  went  some  on  the  other  side. 

Evelyn  suddenly  remembered  Kittykin.  "  Where 
was  she  ?  "  The  last  time  she  had  seen  her  was 
a  half-hour  before,  when  she  had  been  lying 
curled  up  on  the  back  steps,  fast  asleep  in  the 
sun.  Suppose  she  should  be  there  now,  she  would 
certainly  be  killed,  for  the  back  steps  ran  right 
out  into  the  yard  so  as  to  be  just  the  place  for 
Kittykin  to  be  shot.  So  thought  Evelyn.  "  Bang ! 
bang !  "  went  the  guns  again — somewhere.  Eve- 
lyn dragged  a  chair  up  to  a  window  and 
looked.  Her  heart  almost  stopped ;  for  there,  out 
in  the  yard,  quite  clear  of  the  houses,  was  Kitty- 
kin,  standing  some  way  up  the  trunk  of  a  tall 


Kitty  kin  53 

locust-tree,  looking  curiously  around.  Her  little 
white  body  shone  like  a  small  patch  of  snow 
against  the  dark-brown  bark.  Evelyn  sprang 
down  from  the  chair,  and  forgetting  everything, 
rushed  through  the  entry  and  out  of  doors. 

"  Kitty,  kitty,  kitty !  "  she  called.  "  Kittykin, 
come  here!  You'll  be  killed!  Come  here,  Kitty- 
kin!" 

Kittykin,  however,  was  in  for  a  game,  and  as 
her  little  mistress,  with  her  golden  hair  flying  int 
the  breeze,  ran  toward  her,  she  rushed  scamper- 
ing still  higher  up  the  tree.  Evelyn  could  see  that 
there  were  some  men  scattered  out  in  the  fields 
on  either  side  of  her,  some  of  them  stooping,  and 
some  lying  down,  and  as  she  ran  on  toward  the 
tree  she  heard  a  "  Bang !  bang !  "  on  each  side, 
and  she  saw  little  puffs  of  white  smoke,  and  some- 
thing went  "  Zoo-ee-ee  "  up  in  the  air ;  but  she 
did  not  think  about  herself,  she  was  so  frightened 
for  Kittykin. 

"Kitty,  kitty!  Come  down,  Kittykin!"  she 
called,  running  up  to  the  tree  and  holding  up  her 
arms  to  her.  Kittykin  might,  perhaps,  have  liked 
to  come  down  now,  but  she  could  no  longer  do 
so;  she  was  too  high  up.  She  looked  down,  first 
over  one  shoulder  and  then  over  the  other,  but  it 
was  too  high  to  jump.  She  could  not  turn 
around,  and  her  head  began  to  swim.  She  grew 
so  dizzy,  she  was  afraid  she  might  fall,  so  she 


54  The  Page  Story  Book 

dug  her  little  sharp  claws  into  the  bark,  and  began 
to  cry. 

Evelyn  would  have  run  back  to  tell  her  mamma 
(who,  having  sent  the  baby  downstairs  to  mam- 
my, was  still  busy  upstairs  trying  to  hide  some 
things,  and  so  did  not  know  she  was  out  in  the 
yard),  but  she  was  so  afraid  Kittykin  might  be 
killed  that  she  could  not  let  her  get  out  of  her 
sight.  Indeed,  she  was  so  absorbed  in  Kittykin 
that  she  forgot  all  about  everything  else.  She 
even  forgot  all  about  the  soldiers.  But  though 
she  did  not  notice  the  soldiers,  it  seemed  that 
some  of  them  had  observed  her.  Just  as  the 
leader  of  the  Confederate  picket  line  was  about 
to  give  an  order  to  make  a  dash  for  the  houses 
in  the  yard,  to  his  horror  he  saw  a  little  girl  in 
a  white  dress  and  with  flying  hair  suddenly  run 
out  into  the  clear  space  right  between  him  and  the 
soldiers  on  the  other  side,  and  stop  under  a  tree 
just  in  the  line  of  their  fire.  His  heart  jumped 
into  his  mouth  as  he  sprang  to  his  feet  and  waved 
his  hands  wildly  to  call  attention  to  the  child. 
Then  shouting  to  his  men  to  stop  firing,  he  walked 
out  in  front  of  the  line,  and  came  at  a  rapid  stride 
down  the  slope.  The  others  all  stood  still  and 
almost  held  their  breaths  for  fear  some  one  would 
shoot;  but  no  one  did.  Evelyn  was  so  busy  try- 
ring  to  coax  Kittykin  down  that  she  did  not  notice 
anything  until  she  heard  some  one  call  out: 


Kitty  kin  55 

"  For  Heaven's  sake,  run  into  the  house, 
quick!" 

She  looked  around  and  saw  the  gentleman 
hurrying  toward  her.  He  appeared  to  be  very 
much  excited. 

"  What  on  earth  are  you  doing  out  here?  "  he 
gasped,  as  he  came  running  up  to  her. 

He  was  a  young  man,  with  just  a  little  light 
mustache,  and  with  a  little  gold  braid  on  the 
sleeves  of  his  gray  jacket ;  and  though  he  seemed 
very  much  surprised,  he  looked  very  kind. 

"  I  want  my  Kittykin,"  said  Evelyn,  answering- 
him,  and  looking  up  the  tree,  with  a  little  wave 
of  her  hand  toward  where  Kittykin  still  clung 
tightly.  Somehow  she  felt  at  the  moment  that 
this  gentleman  could  help  her  better  than  any 
one  else. 

Kittykin,  however,  apparently  thought  differ- 
ently about  it,  for  she  suddenly  stopped  mewing, 
and  as  if  she  felt  it  unsafe  to  be  so  near  a  stranger* 
she  climbed  carefully  up  until  she  reached  a 
limb,  in  the  crotch  of  which  she  ensconced  her- 
self, and  peeped  curiously  over  at  them  with  a 
look  of  great  satisfaction  in  her  face,  as  much  as 
to  say,  "  Now  I'm  safe.  I'd  like  to  see  you 
get  me."  ^ 

The  gentleman  was  stroking  Evelyn's  hair,  and 
was  looking  at  her  very  intently,  when  a  voice 
called  to  him  from  the  other  side : 


56  The  Page  Story  Book 

•"  Hello,  Johnny!  what's  the  matter?  " 

Evelyn  looked  around,  and  saw  another  gentle- 
man coming  toward  them.  He  was  older  than 
the  first  one,  and  had  on  a  blue  coat,  while  the 
first  had  on  a  gray  one.  She  knew  one  was  a 
Confederate  and  the  other  was  a  Yankee,  and  for 
a  second  she  was  afraid  they  might  shoot  each 
other ;  but  her  first  friend  called  out : 

"  Her  kitten  is  up  the  tree.    Come  ahead !  " 

He  came  on,  and  looked  for  a  second  up  at 
Kittykin,  but  he  looked  at  Evelyn  really  hard, 
and  suddenly  stooped  down,  and  putting  his  arm 
around  her,  drew  her  up  to  him.  She  got  over 
her  fear  in  a  minute. 

"  Kittykin's  up  there,  and  I'm  afraid  she'll  be 
kilt."  She  waved  her  hand  up  over  her  head, 
where  Kittykin  was  taking  occasion  to  put  a  few 
more  limbs  between  herself  and  the  enemy. 

"  It's  rather  a  dangerous  place  when  the  boys 
are  out  hunting,  eh,  Johnny  ?  "  He  laughed  as 
ihe  stood  up  again. 

"  Yes,  for  as  big  a  fellow  as  you.  You 
wouldn't  stand  the  ghost  of  a  show." 

"  I  guess  I'd  feel  small  enough  up  there."  And 
tx)th  men  laughed. 

By  this  time  the  men  on  both  sides  began  to 
come  up,  with  their  guns  over  their  arms. 

"  Hello!  what's  up?  "  some  of  them  called  out. 

"  Her  kitten's  up,"  said  the  first  two ;  and,  to 


Kitty  kin  5  7 

make  good  their  words,  Kittykin,  not  liking  so 
many  people  below  her,  shifted  her  position  again, 
and  went  up  to  a  fresh  limb,  from  which  she 
again  peeped  over  at  them.  The  men  all  gathered 
around  Evelyn  and  began  to  talk  to  her,  and  both 
she  and  Kittykin  were  surprised  to  hear  them 
joking  and  laughing  together  in  the  friendliest 
way. 

"  What  are  you  doing  out  here?  "  they  asked; 
and  to  all  she  made  the  same  reply : 

"  I  want  my  Kittykin." 

Suddenly  her  mamma  came  out.  She  had  just 
gone  downstairs,  and  had  learned  where  Evelyn 
was.  The  two  officers  went  up  and  spoke  to  her, 
but  the  men  still  crowded  around  Evelyn. 

"  She'll  come  down,"  said  one.  "  All  you  have 
to  do  is  to  let  her  alone." 

"  No,  she  won't.  She  can't  come  down.  It 
makes  her  head  swim,"  said  Evelyn. 

"  That's  true,"  thought  Kittykin  up  in  the 
tree,  and  to  let  them  understand  it  she  gave  a 
little  "  Mew." 

"  I  don't  see  how  anything  can  swim  when  it's 
as  dry  as  it  is  around  here,"  said  a  fellow  in  gray. 

A  man  in  blue  handed  him  his  canteen,  which 
he  at  once  accepted,  and  after  surprising  Evelyn 
by  smelling  it — which  she  knew  was  dreadfully 
bad  manners — turned  it  up  to  his  lips.  She  heard 
the  liquid  gurgling. 


58  The  Page  Story  Book 

As  he  handed  it  back  to  its  owner,  he  said: 
"  Yank,  I'm  mighty  glad  I  didn't  shoot  you.  I 
might  have  hit  that  canteen."  At  which  there 
was  a  laugh,  and  the  canteen  went  around  until 
it  was  empty. 

Suddenly  Kittykin  from  her  high  perch  gave  a 
faint  "  Mew,"  which  said,  as  plainly  as  words 
could  say  it,  that  she  wanted  to  get  down  and 
could  not. 

Evelyn's  big  brown  eyes  filled  with  tears.  "  I 
want  my  Kittykin,"  she  said,  her  little  lip  trem- 
bling. 

Instantly  a  dozen  men  unbuckled  their  belts, 
laid  their  guns  on  the  ground,  and  pulled  off  their 
coats,  each  one  trying  to  be  the  first  to  climb  the 
tree.  It  was,  however,  too  large  for  them  to 
reach  far  enough  around  to  get  a  good  hold  on 
it,  so  climbing  it  was  found  to  be  far  more  dif- 
ficult than  it  looked  to  be. 

"  Why  don't  you  cut  it  down  ?  "  asked  some 
one. 

But  Evelyn  cried  out  that  that  would  kill  Kitty- 
kin,  so  the  man  who  suggested  it  was  called  a 
fool  by  the  others.  At  last  it  was  proposed  that 
one  man  should  stand  against  the  tree  and  an- 
other should  climb  up  on  his  shoulders,  when  he 
might  get  his  arms  far  enough  around  it  to  work 
his  way  up.  A  stout  fellow  with  a  gray  jacket 
on  planted  himself  firmly  against  the  trunk,  and 


.a 


>s 

E 


Kitty  kin  59 

one  who  had  taken  off  a  blue  jacket  climbed  up 
on  his  shoulders,  and  might  have  got  up  very 
well  if  he  had  not  remarked  that  as  the  Johnnies 
had  walked  over  him  in  the  last  battle,  it  was  but 
fair  that  he  should  now  walk  over  a  Johnny. 
This  joke  tickled  the  man  under  him  so  that  he 
slipped  away  and  let  him  down.  At  length,  how- 
ever, three  or  four  men  got  good  "  holds,"  and 
went  slowly  up  one  after  the  other,  amid  such 
encouraging  shouts  from  their  friends  on  the 
ground  below  as,  "  Go  it,  Yank,  the  Johnny's  al- 
most got  you !  "  "  Look  out,  Johnny,  the  Yanks 
are  right  behind  you!  "  etc.,  while  Kittykin  gazed 
down  in  astonishment  from  above,  and  Evelyn 
looked  up  breathless  from  below.  With  much 
pulling  and  kicking,  four  men  finally  got  up 
to  the  lowest  limb,  after  which  the  climbing 
was  comparatively  easy.  A  new  difficulty, 
however,  presented  itself.  Kittykin  suddenly 
took  alarm,  and  retreated  still  higher  up  among 
the  branches. 

The  higher  they  climbed  after  that,  the  higher 
she  climbed,  until  she  was  away  up  on  one  of 
the  topmost  boughs,  which  was  far  too  slender 
for  any  one  to  follow  her.  There  she  turned,  and 
looked  back  with  alternate  alarm  and  satisfaction 
expressed  in  her  countenance.  If  the  men  stirred, 
she  stood  ready  to  fly;  if  they  kept  still,  she  set- 
tled down  and  mewed  plaintively.  Once  or  twice, 


60  The  Page  Story  Book 

as  they  moved,  she  took  fright  and  looked  almost 
as  if  about  to  jump. 

Evelyn  was  breathless  with  excitement.  "  Don't 
let  her  jump,"  she  called,  "  she  will  get  kilt !  " 

The  men,  too,  were  anxious  to  prevent  that. 
They  called  to  her,  held  out  their  hands,  and 
coaxed  her  in  every  tone  by  which  a  kitten  is 
supposed  to  be  influenced.  But  it  was  all  in  vain. 
No  cajoleries,  no  promises,  no  threats,  were  of 
the  least  avail.  Kittykin  was  there  safe  out  of 
their  reach,  and  there  she  would  remain,  sixty 
feet  above  the  ground.  Suddenly  she  saw  that 
something  was  occurring  below.  She  saw  the 
men  all  gather  around  her  little  mistress,  and 
could  hear  her  at  first  refuse  to  let  something  be 
done,  and  then  consent.  She  could  not  make  out 
what  it  was,  though  she  strained  her  ears.  She 
remembered  to  have  heard  mammy  tell  her  little 
mistress  once  that  "  curiosity  had  killed  a  cat," 
and  she  was  afraid  to  think  too  much  about  it 
so  high  up  in  the  tree.  Still,  when  she  heard 
an  order  given,  "  Go  back  and  get  your  blankets," 
and  saw  a  whole  lot  of  the  men  go  running  off  into 
the  field  on  either  side,  and  presently  come  back 
with  their  arms  full  of  blankets,  she  could  not 
help  wondering  what  they  were  going  to  do. 
They  at  once  began  to  unroll  the  blankets  and 
hold  them  open  all  around  the  tree,  until  a  large 
circle  of  the  ground  was  quite  hidden. 


Kitty  kin  61 

"Ah,"  said  Kittykin,  "it's  a  wicked  trap!" 
and  she  dug  her  little  claws  deep  into  the  bark, 
and  made  up  her  mind  that  nothing  should  in- 
duce her  to  jump.  Presently  she  heard  the  sol- 
diers in  the  tree  under  her  call  to  those  on  the 
ground : 

"  Are  you  ready  ?  " 

And  they  said,  "All  right!" 

"  Ah,"  said  Kittykin,  "  they  cannot  get  down, 
either.  Serves  them  right !  " 

But  suddenly  they  all  waved  their -arms  at  her, 
and  cried,  "  Scat !  " 

Goodness !  The  idea  of  crying  "  scat "  at  a 
kitten  when  she  is  up  in  a  tree ! — "  scat,"  which 
fills  a  kitten's  breast  with  terror !  It  was  brutal, 
and  then  it  was  all  so  unexpected.  It  came  very 
near  making  her  fall.  As  it  was,  it  set  her  heart 
to  thumping  and  bumping  against  her  ribs,  like 
a  marble  in  a  box.  "  Ah,"  she  thought,  "  if  those 
brutes  below  were  but  mice,  and  I  had  them  on 
the  carpet !  "  So  she  dug  her  claws  into  the  bark, 
which  was  quite  tender  up  there,  and  it  was  well 
she  did,  for  she  heard  some  one  call  something 
below  that  sounded  like  "  Shake !  "  and  before 
she  knew  it  the  man  nearest  her  reached  up,  and, 
seizing  the  limb  on  which  she  was,  screwed  up 
his  face,  and —  Goodness!  it  nearly  shook  the 
teeth  out  of  her  mouth  and  the  eyes  out  of  her 
head. 


62  The  Page  Story  Book 

Shake !  shake !  shake !  it  came  again,  each  time 
nearly  tearing  her  little  claws  out  of  their  sockets 
and  scaring  her  to  death.  She  saw  the  ground 
swim  far  below  her,  and  felt  that  she  would  be 
mashed  to  death.  Shake!  shake!  shake!  shake! 
She  could  not  hold  out  much  longer,  and  she  spat 
down  at  them.  How  those  brutes  below  laughed ! 
She  formed  a  desperate  resolve.  She  would  get 
even  with  them.  "  Ah,  if  they  were  but — " 
Shake!  sha —  With  a  fierce  spit,  partly  of  rage, 
partly  of  fear,  Kittykin  let  go,  whirled  suddenly, 
and  flung  herself  on  the  upturned  face  of  the  man 
next  beneath  her,  from  him  to  the  man  below  him, 
and  finally,  digging  her  little  claws  deep  in  his 
flesh,  sprang  with  a  wild  leap  clear  of  the  boughs, 
and  shot  whizzing  out  into  the  air,  while  the  two 
men,  thrown  off  their  guard  by  the  suddenness 
of  the  attack,  loosed  their  hold,  and  went  crashing 
down  into  the  forks  upon  those  below. 

The  first  thing  Evelyn  and  the  men  on  the 
ground  knew  was  the  crash  of  the  falling  men  and 
the  sight  of  Kittykin  coming  whizzing  down,  her 
little  claws  clutching  wildly  at  the  air.  Before 
they  could  see  what  she  was,  she  gave  a  bounce 
like  a  trap-ball  as  high  as  a  man's  head,  and  then, 
as  she  touched  the  ground  again,  shot  like  a  wild 
sky-rocket  hissing  across  the  yard,  and,  with  her 
tail  all  crooked  to  one  side  and  as  big  as  her 
body,  vanished  under  the  house.  Oh,  such  a  shout 


Kittykin  63 

as  there  was  from  the  soldiers!  Evelyn  heard 
them  yelling  as  she  ran  off  after  Kittykin  to  see 
if  she  wasn't  dead.  They  fairly  howled  with  de- 
light as  the  men  in  the  tree,  with  scratched  faces 
and  torn  clothes,  came  crawling  down.  They 
looked  very  sheepish  as  they  landed  among  their 
comrades ;  but  the  question  whether  Kittykin  had 
landed  in  a  blanket  or  had  hit  the  solid  ground 
fifty  feet  out  somewhat  relieved  them.  They  all 
agreed  that  she  had  bounced  twenty  feet. 

Why  Kittykin  was  not  killed  outright  was  a 
marvel.  One  of  her  eyes  was  a  little  bunged  up, 
the  claws  on  three  of  her  feet  were  loosened,  and 
for  a  week  she  felt  as  if  she  had  been  run  through 
a  sausage  mill ;  but  she  never  lost  any  of  her  speed. 
Ever  afterward  when  she  saw  a  soldier  she  would 
run  for  life,  and  hide  as  far  back  under  the  house 
as  she  could  get,  with  her  eyes  shining  like  two 
little  live  coals. 

For  some  time,  indeed,  she  lived  in  perpetual 
terror,  for  the  soldiers  of  both  lines  used  to  come 
up  to  the  house,  as  the  friendship  they  formed 
that  day  never  was  changed,  and  though  they  re- 
mained on  the  two  opposite  hills  for  quite  a  while, 
they  never  fired  a  shot  at  each  other.  They  used 
instead  to  meet  and  exchange  tobacco  and  coffee, 
and  laugh  over  the  way  Kittykin  routed  their 
joint  forces  in  the  tree  the  day  of  the  skirmish. 

As  for  Kittykin,  she  never  put  on  any  airs 


64  The  Page  Story  Book 

about  it.  She  did  not  care  for  that  sort  of  glory. 
She  never  afterward  could  tolerate  a  tree;  the 
earth  was  good  enough  for  her;  and  the  highest 
she  ever  climbed  was  up  in  her  little  mistress's 
lap. 


TWO   LITTLE    CONFEDERATES 

FRANK  AND  WILLY  were  two  little  Confed- 
erates who  lived  at  Oakland  during  the  war. 
Frank  and  Willy's  father,  older  brother,  and 
cousins  were  in  the  Confederate  army.  Frank 
and  Willy,  with  old  black  "Uncle  Balla,"  the 
driver,  looked  after  their  mother  and  the  place. 
The  Confederate,  and  later  the  Union  soldiers, 
overran  that  part  of  the  country.  This  gave  rise 
to  many  exciting  adventures  for  the  boys. 


THEIR    ADVENTURE   WITH    UNION    RAIDERS 

One  evening  in  May,  about  sunset,  as  the  boys 
were  playing  in  the  yard,  a  man  came  riding 
through  the  place  on  the  way  to  Richmond.  His 
horse  showed  that  he  had  been  riding  hard.  He 
asked  the  nearest  way  to  "  Ground-Squirrel 
Bridge."  The  Yankees,  he  said,  were  coming. 
It  was  a  raid.  He  had  ridden  ahead  of  them, 
and  had  left  them  about  Greenbay  depot,  which 
they  had  set  on  fire.  He  was  in  too  great  a  hurry 

65 


66  The  Page  Story  Book 

to  stop  and  get  something  to  eat,  and  he  rode  ott, 
leaving  much  excitement  behind  him ;  for  Green- 
bay  was  only  eight  miles  away,  and  Oakland  lay 
right  between  two  roads  to  Richmond,  down  one 
or  the  other  of  which  the  party  of  raiders  must 
certainly  pass. 

It  was  the  first  time  the  boys  ever  saw  their 
mother  exhibit  so  much  emotion  as  she  then  did. 
She  came  to  the  door  and  called : 

"  Balla,  come  here ! "  Her  voice  sounded  to 
the  boys  a  little  strained  and  troubled,  and  they 
ran  up  the  steps  and  stood  by  her.  Balla  came 
to  the  portico,  and  looked  up  with  an  air  of  in- 
quiry. He,  too,  showed  excitement. 

"  Balla,  I  want  you  to  know  that  if  you  wish 
to  go,  you  can  do  so." 

"  Hi,  Mistis — "  began  Balla,  with  an  air  of 
reproach ;  but  she  cut  him  short  and  kept  on. 

"  I  want  you  all  to  know  it."  She  was  speak- 
ing now  so  as  to  be  heard  by  the  cook  and  the 
maids,  who  were  standing  about  the  yard  listen- 
ing to  her.  "  I  want  you  all  to  know  it — every 
one  on  the  place !  You  can  go,  if  you  wish ;  but 
if  you  go,  you  can  never  come  back !  " 

"  Hi,  Mistis,"  broke  in  Uncle  Balla,  "  whar  is  I 
got  to  go?  I  wuz  born  on  dis  place,  an'  I  'spec' 
to  die  here,  an'  be  buried  right  yonder ; "  and 
he  turned  and  pointed  up  to  the  dark  clumps  of 
trees  that  marked  the  graveyard  on  the  hill,  a  half 


e£  th*7*  ha* 

Two  Little 


mile  away,  where  the  colored  people  were  buried. 
"Dat  I  does,"  he  affirmed  positively.  "  Y'  all 
sticks  by  us,  an'  we'll  stick  by  you." 

"  I  know  I  ain'  gwine  nowhar  wid  no  Yankees 
or  nothin',"  said  Lucy  Ann  in  an  undertone. 

"  Dee  tell  me  dee  got  hoofs  and  horns,"  laughed 
one  of  the  women  in  the  yard. 

The  boys'  mother  started  to  say  something  fur- 
ther to  Balla,  but  though  she  opened  her  lips,  she 
did  not  speak;  she  turned  suddenly  and  walked 
into  the  house  and  into  her  chamber,  where  she 
shut  the  door  behind  her.  The  boys  thought  she 
was  angry,  but  when  they  softly  followed  her,  a 
few  minutes  afterward,  she  got  up  hastily  from 
where  she  had  been  kneeling  beside  the  bed,  and 
they  saw  that  she  had  been  crying.  A  murmur 
under  the  window  called  them  back  to  the  por- 
tico. It  had  begun  to  grow  dark;  but  a  bright 
spot  was  glowing  on  the  horizon,  and  on  this 
every  one's  gaze  was  fixed. 

"  Where  is  it,  Balla?  What  is  it?  "  asked  the 
boys'  mother,  her  voice  no  longer  strained  and 
harsh,  but  even  softer  than  usual. 

"  It's  the  depot,  madam.  They's  burnin'  it. 
That  man  told  me  they  was  burnin'  ev'ywhar 
they  went.'* 

"  Will  they  be  here  to-night?  "  asked  his  mis- 
tress. 

"  No,  marm ;  I  don'  hardly  think  they  will. 


68  The  Page  Story  Book 

That  man  said  they  couldn't  travel  more  than 
thirty  miles  a  day;  but  they'll  be  plenty  of  'em 
to-morrow — to  breakfast."  He  gave  a  nervous 
sort  of  laugh. 

"  Here — you  all  come  here,"  said  their  mis- 
tress to  the  servants.  She  went  to  the  smoke- 
house and  unlocked  it.  "  Go  in  there  and  get 
down  the  bacon;  take  a  piece,  each  of  you." 
A  great  deal  was  still  left.  "  Balla,  step  here." 
She  called  him  aside  and  spoke  earnestly  in  an 
undertone. 

"  Yes'm,  that's  so ;  that's  jes'  what  I  wuz  gwine 
do,"  the  boys  heard  him  say. 

Their  mother  sent  the  boys  out.  She  went  and 
locked  herself  in  her  room,  but  they  heard  her 
footsteps  as  she  turned  about  within,  and  now 
and  then  they  heard  her  opening  and  shutting 
drawers  and  moving  chairs. 

In  a  little  while  she  came  out. 

"  Frank,  you  and  Willy  go  and  tell  Balla  to 
come  to  the  chamber  door.  He  may  be  out  in 
the  stable." 

They  dashed  out,  proud  to  bear  so  important 
a  message.  They  could  not  find  him,  but  an  hour 
later  they  heard  him  coming  from  the  stable.  He 
at  once  went  into  the  house.  They  rushed  into 
the  chamber,  where  they  found  the  door  of  the 
closet  open. 

"  Balla,   come  in  here,"   called  their  mother 


Two  Little  Confederates  69 

from  within.  "  Have  you  got  them  safe  ?  "  she 
asked. 

"  Yes'm;  jes'  as  safe  as  they  kin  be.  I  want 
to  be  'bout  here  when  they  come,  or  I'd  go  down 
an'  stay  whar  they  is." 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  asked  the  boys. 

"Where  is  the  best  place  to  put  that?"  she 
said,  pointing  to  a  large  strong  box  in  which, 
they  knew,  the  finest  silver  was  kept;  indeed,  all 
excepting  what  was  used  every  day  on  the  table. 

"  Well,  I  declar',  Mistis,  that's  hard  to  tell," 
said  the  old  driver,  "  without  it's  in  the  stable." 

"  They  may  burn  that  down." 

"  That's  so.  You  might  bury  it  under  the  floor 
of  the  smoke-house  ?  " 

"  I  have  heard  that  they  always  look  for  silver 
there,"  said  the  boys'  mother.  "  How  would  it 
do  to  bury  it  in  the  garden  ?  " 

"  That's  the  very  place  I  was  gwine  name," 
said  Balla,  with  flattering  approval.  "  They  can't 
burn  that  down,  and  if  they  gwine  dig  for  it  then 
they'll  have  to  dig  a  long  time  before  they  git  over 
that  big  garden."  He  stooped  and  lifted  up  one 
end  of  the  box  to  test  its  weight. 

"  I  thought  of  the  other  end  of  the  flower-bed, 
between  the  big  rose-bush  and  the  lilac." 

"  That's  the  very  place  I  had  in  my  mind," 
declared  the  old  man.  "  They  won'  never  fine 
itdyah!" 


70  The  Page  Story  Book 

"  We  know  a  good  place,"  said  the  boys  both 
together ;  "  it's  a  heap  better  than  that.  It's 
where  we  bury  our  treasures  when  we  play 
'  Black-beard  the  Pirate.'  " 

"  Very  well,"  said  their  mother ;  "  I  don't  care 
to  know  where  it  is  until  after  to-morrow,  any- 
how. I  know  I  can  trust  you,"  she  added,  ad- 
dressing Balla. 

"  Yes'm,  you  know  dat,"  said  he  simply.  "  I'll 
jes'  go  an'  git  my  hoe." 

The  boys  were  too  excited  to  get  sleepy  be- 
fore the  silver  was  hidden.  Their  mother  told 
them  they  might  go  down  into  the  garden 
and  help  Balla,  on  condition  that  they  would 
not  talk. 

"  That's  the  way  we  always  do  when  we  bury 
the  treasure.  Ain't  it,  Willy  ?  "  asked  Frank. 

"  If  a  man  speaks,  it's  death !  "  declared  Willyj 
slapping  his  hand  on  his  side  as  if  to  draw  a 
sword,  striking  a  theatrical  attitude  and  speaking 
in  a  deep  voice. 

"  Give  the  '  galleon  '  to  us,"  said  Frank. 

"  No ;  be  off  with  you !  "  said  their  mother. 

"  That  ain't  the  way,"  said  Frank.  "  A  pirate 
never  digs  the  hole  until  he  has  his  treasure  at 
hand.  To  do  so  would  prove  him  but  a  novice; 
wouldn't  it,  Willy?" 

"  Well,  I  leave  it  all  to  you,  my  little  buc- 
caneers," said  their  mother,  laughing.  "  I'll  take 


Two  Little  Confederates  71 

care  of  the  spoons  and  forks  we  use  every  day. 
I'll  just  hide  them  away  in  a  hole  somewhere." 

The  boys  started  off  after  Balla  with  a  shout, 
but  remembered  their  errand  and  suddenly  hushed 
down  to  a  little  squeal  of  delight  at  being  actually 
engaged  in  burying  treasure — real  silver.  It 
seemed  too  good  to  be  true,  and  withal  there  was 
a  real  excitement  about  it,  for  how  could  they 
know  but  that  some  one  might  watch  them  from 
some  hiding-place,  or  might  even  fire  into  them  as 
they  worked  ? 

They  met  the  old  fellow  as  he  was  coming  from 
the  carriage-house  with  a  hoe  and  a  spade  in  his 
hands.  He  was  on  his  way  to  the  garden  in  a 
very  straightforward  manner,  but  the  boys  made 
him  understand  that  to  bury  treasure  it  was  nec- 
essary to  be  particularly  secret,  and  after  some 
little  grumbling,  Balla  humored  them. 

The  difficulty  of  getting  the  box  of  silver  out 
of  the  house  secretly,  while  all  the  family  were 
up  and  the  servants  were  moving  about,  was  so 
great  that  this  part  of  the  affair  had  to  be  carried 
on  in  a  manner  different  from  the  usual  pro- 
gramme of  pirates  of  the  first  water.  Even  the 
boys  had  to  admit  this;  and  they  yielded  to  old 
Balla's  advice  on  this  point,  but  made  up  for  it 
by  additional  formality,  ceremony,  and  secrecy  in 
pointing  out  the  spot  where  the  box  was  to  be  hid. 

Old  Balla  was  quite  accustomed  to  their  games 


72  The  Page  Story  Book 

and  fun — their  "  pranks,"  as  he  called  them.  He 
accordingly  yielded  willingly  when  they  marched 
him  to  a  point  at  the  lower  end  of  the  yard,  on 
the  opposite  side  from  the  garden,  and  left  him. 
But  he  was  inclined  to  give  trouble  when  they 
both  reappeared  with  a  gun,  and  in  a  whisper 
announced  that  they  must  march  first  up  the  ditch 
which  ran  by  the  spring  around  the  foot  of  the 
garden. 

"  Look  here,  boys ;  I  ain'  got  time  to  fool  with 
you  chillern,"  said  the  old  man.  "  Ain't  you  hear 
your  ma  tell  me  she  'pend  on  me  to  bury  that 
silver  what  yo'  gran'ma  and  gran'pa  used  to  eat 
off  o' — an'  don'  wan'  nobody  to  know  nothin' 
'bout  it?  An'  y'  all  comin'  here  with  guns,  like 
you  huntin'  squ'rr'ls,  an'  now  talkin'  'bout  wadin' 
in  the  ditch !  " 

"  But,  Unc'  Balla,  that's  the  way  all  buccaneers 
do,"  protested  Frank. 

"  Yes,  buccaneers  always  go  by  water,"  said 
Willy. 

"  And  we  can  stoop  in  the  ditch  and  come  in 
at  the  far  end  of  the  garden,  so  nobody  can  see 
us,"  added  Frank. 

"  Bookanear  or  bookafar,  I'se  gwine  in  dat 
garden  and  dig  a  hole  wid  my  hoe,  an'  I  is  too  ole 
to  be  wadin'  in  a  ditch  like  chillern.  I  got  the 
misery  in  my  knee  now,  so  bad  I'se  sca'cely  able 
to  stand.  I  don't  know  huccome  y'  all  ain't  sat- 


Two  Little  Confederates  73 

isfied  with  the  place  you'  ma  an'  I  done  pick, 
anyways." 

This  was  too  serious  a  mutiny  for  the  boys. 
So  it  was  finally  agreed  that  one  gun  should  be 
returned  to  the  office,  and  that  they  should  enter 
by  the  gate,  after  which  Balla  was  to  go  with 
the  boys  by  the  way  they  should  show  him,  and 
see  the  spot  they  thought  of. 

They  took  him  down  through  the  weeds  around 
the  garden,  crouching  under  the  rose-bushes,  and 
at  last  stopped  at  a  spot  under  the  slope,  com- 
pletely surrounded  by  shrubbery. 

"  Here  is  the  spot,"  said  Frank  in  a  whisper, 
pointing  under  one  of  the  bushes. 

"  It's  in  a  line  with  the  longest  limb  of  the 
big  oak-tree  by  the  gate,"  added  Willy,  "  and 
when  this  locust  bush  and  that  cedar  grow  to 
be  big  trees,  it  will  be  just  half-way  between 
them." 

As  this  seemed  to  Balla  a  very  good  place,  he 
set  to  work  at  once  to  dig,  the  two  boys  helping 
him  as  well  as  they  could.  It  took  a  great  deal 
longer  to  dig  the  hole  in  the  dark  than  they  had 
expected,  and  when  they  got  back  to  the  house 
every  tiling  was  quiet. 

The  boys  had  their  hats  pulled  over  their  eyes, 
and  had  turned  their  jackets  inside  out  to  dis- 
guise themselves. 

"  It's  a  first-rate  place!    Ain't  it,  Unc'  Balla?  " 


74  The  Page  Story  Book 

they  said,  as  they  entered  the  chamber  where  their 
mother  and  aunt  were  waiting  for  them. 

"  Do  you  think  it  will  do,  Balla?  "  their  mother 
asked. 

"  Oh,  yes,  madam ;  it's  far  enough,  an'  they  got 
mighty  comical  ways  to  get  dyah,  wadin'  in  ditch 
an'  things — it  will  do.  I  ain'  sho'  I  kin  fin'  it 
ag'in  myself."  He  was  not  particularly  enthusi- 
astic. Now,  however,  he  shouldered  the  box,  with 
a  grunt  at  its  weight,  and  the  party  went  slowly 
out  through  the  back  door  into  the  dark.  The 
glow  of  the  burning  depot  was  still  visible  in  the 
west. 

Then  it  was  decided  that  Willy  should  go  be- 
fore— he  said,  to  "  reconnoitre  " ;  Balla  said,  "  to 
open  the  gate  and  lead  the  way  " ;  and  that  Frank 
should  bring  up  the  rear. 

They  trudged  slowly  on  through  the  darkness, 
Frank  and  Willy  watching  on  every  side,  old 
Balla  stooping  under  the  weight  of  the  big  box. 

After  they  were  some  distance  in  the  garden 
they  heard,  or  thought  they  heard,  a  sound  back 
at  the  gate,  but  decided  that  it  was  nothing  but 
the  latch  clicking,  and  they  went  on  down  to  their 
hiding-place. 

In  a  little  while  the  black  box  was  well  settled 
in  the  hole,  and  the  dirt  was  thrown  upon  it.  The 
replaced  earth  made  something  of  a  mound,  which 
was  unfortunate.  They  had  not  thought  of  this ; 


Two  Little  Confederates  75 

but  they  covered  it  with  leaves,  and  agreed  that 
it  was  so  well  hidden,  the  Yankees  would  never 
dream  of  looking  there. 

"  Unc'  Balla,  where  are  your  horses  ?  "  asked 
one  of  the  boys. 

"  That's  for  me  to  know,  an'  them  to  find  out 
what  kin,"  replied  the  old  fellow  with  a  chuckle 
of  satisfaction. 

The  whole  party  crept  back  out  of  the  garden, 
and  the  boys  were  soon  dreaming  of  buccaneers 
and  pirates. 

The  boys  were  not  sure  that  they  had  even 
fallen  asleep,  when  they  heard  Lucy  Ann  call  out- 
side. They  turned  over  to  take  another  nap. 
She  was  coming  up  to  the  door.  No,  for  it  was 
a  man's  step,  it  must  be  Uncle  Balla's ;  they  heard 
horses  trampling  and  people  talking.  In  a  second 
the  door  was  flung  open,  and  a  man  strode  into 
the  room,  followed  by  one,  two,  a  half-dozen 
others,  all  white  and  all  in  uniform.  They  were 
Yankees.  The  boys  were  too  frightened  to  speak. 
They  thought  they  were  arrested  for  hiding  the 
silver. 

"  Get  up,  you  lazy  little  rebels !  "  cried  one  of 
the  intruders,  not  unpleasantly.  As  the  boys  were 
not  very  quick  in  obeying,  being  really  too  fright- 
ened to  do  more  than  sit  up  in  bed,  the  man  caught 
the  mattress  by  the  end,  and,  lifting  it  with  a 


76  The  Page  Story  Book 

jerk,  emptied  them  and  all  the  bedclothes  out 
into  the  middle  of  the  floor  in  a  heap.  At  this 
all  the  other  men  laughed.  A  minute  more  and 
he  had  drawn  his  sword.  The  boys  expected  no 
less  than  to  be  immediately  killed.  They  were 
almost  paralyzed.  But  instead  of  plunging  his 
sword  into  them,  the  man  began  to  stick  it  into 
the  mattresses  and  to  rip  them  up;  while  others 
pulled  open  the  drawers  of  the  bureau  and  pitched 
the  things  on  the  floor. 

The  boys  felt  themselves  to  be  in  a  very  ex- 
posed and  defenceless  condition;  and  Willy,  who 
had  become  tangled  in  the  bedclothes,  and  had 
been  a  little  hurt  in  falling,  now  that  the  strain 
was  somewhat  over,  began  to  cry. 

In  a  minute  a  shadow  darkened  the  doorway, 
and  their  mother  stood  in  the  room. 

"  Leave  the  room  instantly ! "  she  cried. 
"  Aren't  you  ashamed  to  frighten  children  ?  " 

"  We  haven't  hurt  the  brats,"  said  the  man 
with  the  sword  good-naturedly. 

"  Well,  you  terrify  them  to  death.  It's  just  as 
bad.  Give  me  those  clothes !  "  and  she  sprang 
forward  and  snatched  the  boys'  clothes  from  the 
hands  of  a  man  who  had  taken  them  up.  She 
flung  the  suits  to  the  boys,  who  lost  no  time  in 
slipping  into  them. 

They  had  at  once  recovered  their  courage  in 
the  presence  of  their  mother.  She  seemed  to 


Two  Little   Confederates  77 

them,  ss  she  braved  the  intruders,  the  grandest 
person  they  had  ever  seen.  Her  face  was  white, 
but  her  eyes  were  like  coals  of  fire.  They  were 
very  glad  she  had  never  looked  or  talked  so  to 
them. 

When  they  got  outdoors  the  yard  was  full  of 
soldiers.  They  were  upon  the  porches,  in  the 
entry,  and  in  the  house.  The  smoke-house  was 
open,  and  so  were  the  doors  of  all  the  other  out- 
houses, and  now  and  then  a  man  passed,  carry- 
ing some  article  which  the  boys  recognized. 

In  a  little  while  the  soldiers  had  taken  every- 
thing they  could  carry  conveniently,  and  even 
things  which  must  have  caused  them  some  incon- 
venience. They  had  secured  all  the  bacon  that 
had  been  left  in  the  smoke-house,  as  well  as  all 
other  eatables  they  could  find.  It  was  a  queer 
sight,  to  see  the  fellows  sitting  on  their  horses 
with  a  ham  or  a  pair  of  fowls  tied  to  one  side 
of  the  saddle,  and  an  engraving,  or  a  package  of 
books,  or  some  ornament,  to  the  other. 

A  new  party  of  men  had  by  this  time  come  up 
from  the  direction  of  the  stables. 

"  Old  man,  come  here!  "  called  some  of  them 
to  Balla,  who  was  standing  expostulating  with 
the  men  who  were  about  the  fire. 

«  Who— me?  "  asked  Balla. 

"  B'ain't  you  the  carriage  driver?  " 

"  Ain't  I  the  keridge  driver?  " 


78  The  Page  Story  Book 

"  Yes,  you;  we  know  you  are,  so  you  need  not 
be  lying  about  it." 

"  Hi !  yes,  I  the  keridge  driver.  Who  say  I 
ain't?" 

"  Well,  where  have  you  hid  those  horses? 
Come,  we  want  to  know  quick,"  said  the  fellow 
roughly,  taking  out  his  pistol  in  a  threatening 
way. 

The  old  man's  eyes  grew  wide.  "  Hi !  befo' 
de  Lord,  Marster,  how  I  know  anything  of  the 
horses  ef  they  ain't  in  the  stable?  There's  where 
we  keep  horses." 

"  Here,  you  come  with  us !  We  won't  have 
no  foolin'  'bout  this,"  said  his  questioner,  seizing 
him  by  the  shoulder  and  jerking  him  angrily 
around.  "If  you  don't  show  us  pretty  quick 
where  those  horses  are,  we'll  put  a  bullet  or  two 
into  you.  March  off  there !  " 

He  was  backed  by  a  half-dozen  more,  but  the 
pistol  which  was  at  old  Balla's  head  was  his  most 
efficient  ally. 

"  Hi !  Marster,  don't  p'int  dat  thing  at  me  that 
way.  I  ain'  ready  to  die  yit;  an'  I  ain'  like 
dem  things  noways,"  protested  Balla. 

There  is  no  telling  how  much  further  his  cour- 
age could  have  withstood  their  threats,  for  the 
boys'  mother  made  her  appearance.  She  was 
about  to  bid  Balla  show  where  the  horses  were, 
when  a  party  rode  into  the  yard  leading  them. 


Two  Little  Confederates  79 

"  Hi !  there  are  Bill  and  John,  now !  "  ex- 
claimed the  boys,  recognizing  the  black  carriage 
horses  which  were  being  led  along. 

"Well,  ef  dee  ain't  got  'em,  sho'  'nough!" 
exclaimed  the  old  driver,  forgetting  his  fear  of 
the  cocked  pistols. 

"  Gentlemen,  marsters,  don't  teck  my  horses, 
ef  you  please !  "  he  pleaded,  pushing  through  the 
group  that  surrounded  him,  and  approaching  the 
man  who  led  the  horses. 

They  only  laughed  at  him. 

Both  the  boys  ran  to  their  mother,  and  fling- 
ing their  arms  about  her,  burst  out  crying. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  men  started  off,  riding 
across  the  fields,  and  in  a  little  while  not  a  soldier 
was  in  sight. 

"  I  wish  Marse  William  could  see  you  ridin' 
'cross  them  fields,"  said  Balla,  looking  after  the 
retiring  troop  in  futile  indignation. 

Investigation  revealed  the  fact  that  every  horse 
and  mule  on  the  plantation  had  been  carried  off, 
except  only  two  or  three  old  mules,  which  were 
evidently  considered  not  worth  taking. 


8o  The  Page  Story  Book 


n 

THE    TWO    LITTLE    CONFEDERATES*    CAPTURE    BY 
UNION  SOLDIERS 

Hugh,  the  elder  brother  of  the  two  little  Con- 
federates, and  his  General  were  in  concealment 
in  the  woods,  hunted  by  Union  raiders.  Frank 
and  Willy  had  been  to  carry  them  food,  and  were 
returning  home. 

After  crossing  the  gully,  and  walking  on 
through  the  woods  for  what  they  thought  a  safe 
distance,  they  turned  into  the  path. 

They  were  talking  very  merrily  about  the  Gen- 
eral and  Hugh,  and  their  friend  Mills,  and  were 
discussing  some  romantic  plan  for  the  recapture 
of  their  horses  from  the  enemy,  when  they  came 
out  of  the  path  into  the  road,  and  found  them- 
selves within  twenty  yards  of  a  group  of  Federal 
soldiers,  quietly  sitting  on  their  horses,  evidently 
guarding  the  road. 

The  sight  of  the  blue-coats  made  the  boys 
jump.  They  would  have  crept  back,  but  it  was 
too  late;  they  caught  the  eye  of  the  man  nearest 
them.  They  ceased  talking  as  suddenly  as  birds 
in  the  trees  stop  chirruping  when  the  hawk  sails 
over;  and  when  one  Yankee  called  to  them,  in 
a  stern  tone,  "  Halt,  there!  "  and  started  to  come 
toward  them,  their  hearts  were  in  their  mouths. 


Two  Little  Confederates  81 

"  Where  are  you  boys  going?  "  he  asked  as  he 
came  up  to  them. 

"  Going  home." 

"  Where  do  you  belong  ?  " 

"  Over  there,  at  Oakland,"  pointing  in  the  di- 
rection of  their  home,  which  seemed  suddenly  to 
have  moved  a  thousand  miles  away. 

"  Where  have  you  been?  "  The  other  soldiers 
had  come  up  now. 

"  Been  down  this  way."  The  boys'  voices  were 
never  so  meek  before.  Each  reply  was  like  an 
apology. 

"Been  to  see  your  brother?"  asked  one  who 
had  not  spoken  before,  a  pleasant-looking  fellow. 
The  boys  looked  at  him.  They  were  paralyzed 
by  dread  of  the  approaching  question. 

"  Now,  boys,  we  know  where  you  have  been," 
said  a  small  fellow  who  wore  a  yellow  chevron  on 
his  arm.  He  had  a  thin  mustache  and  a  sharp 
nose,  and  rode  a  wiry,  dull  sorrel  horse.  "  You 
may  just  as  well  tell  us  all  about  it.  We  know 
you've  been  to  see  'em,  and  we  are  going  to  make 
you  carry  us  where  they  are." 

"  No,  we  ain't,"  said  Frank  doggedly. 

Willy  expressed  his  determination  also. 

"  If  you  don't,  it's  going  to  be  pretty  bad  for 
you,"  said  the  little  corporal.  He  gave  an  order 
to  two  of  the  men,  who  sprang  from  their  horses, 
and  catching  Frank,  swung  him  up  behind  an- 


82  The  Page  Story  Book 

other  cavalryman.  The  boy's  face  was  very  pale, 
but  he  bit  his  lip. 

"  Go  ahead,"  continued  the  corporal  to  a  num- 
ber of  his  men,  who  started  down  the  path.  "  You 
four  men  remain  here  till  we  come  back,"  he  said 
to  the  men  on  the  ground,  and  to  two  others  on 
horseback.  "  Keep  him  here,"  jerking  his  thumb 
toward  Willy,  whose  face  was  already  burning 
with  emotion. 

"  I'm  going  with  Frank/'  said  Willy.  "  Let 
me  go."  This  to  the  man  who  had  hold  of  him 
by  the  arm.  "  Frank,  make  him  let  me  go!  "  he 
shouted,  bursting  into  tears,  and  turning  on  his 
captor  with  all  his  little  might. 

"  Willy,  he's  not  goin'  to  hurt  you ;  don't  you 
tell,"  called  Frank,  squirming  until  he  dug  his 
heels  so  into  the  horse's  flanks  that  the  horse 
began  to  kick  up. 

"  Keep  quiet,  Johnny ;  he's  not  goinr  to  hurt 
him,"  said  one  of  the  men  kindly.  He  had  a 
brown  beard  and  shining  white  teeth. 

They  rode  slowly  down  the  narrow  path,  the 
dragoon  holding  Frank  by  the  leg.  Deep  down 
in  the  woods,  beyond  a  small  branch,  the  path 
forked. 

"  Which  way  ?  "  asked  the  corporal,  stopping 
and  addressing  Frank. 

Frank  set  his  mouth  tight  and  looked  him  in 
the  eyes.  ' 


The  boy  faced  his  captor,   who  held  a  strap  in  one  hand. 


Two  Little  Confederates  83 

"  Which  is  it  ?  "  the  corporal  repeated. 

"  I  ain't  going  to  tell,"  said  he  firmly. 

"  Look  here,  Johnny ;  we've  got  you,  and  we 
are  going  to  make  you  tell  us ;  so  you  might  just 
as  well  do  it,  easy.  If  you  don't,  we're  goin'  to 
make  you." 

The  boy  said  nothing. 

"  You  men  dismount.  Stubbs,  hold  the  horses." 
He  himself  dismounted,  and  three  others  did  the 
same,  giving  their  horses  to  a  fourth. 

"  Get  down  " — this  to  Frank  and  the  soldier 
behind  whom  he  was  riding.  The  soldier  dis- 
mounted, and  the  boy  slipped  off  after  him 
and  faced  his  captor,  who  held  a  strap  in  one 
hand. 

"  Are  you  goin'  to  tell  us  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  No." 

"  Don't  you  know  ?  "  He  came  a  step  nearer, 
and  held  the  strap  forward.  There  was  a  long 
silence.  The  boy's  face  paled  perceptibly,  but 
took  on  a  look  as  if  the  proceedings  were  indiffer- 
ent to  him. 

"If  you  say  you  don't  know — "  said  the  man, 
hesitating  in  face  of  the  boy's  resolution.  "  Don't 
you  know  where  they  are  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  know,  but  I  ain't  goin'  to  tell  you," 
said  Frank,  bursting  into  tears. 

"The  little  Johnny's  game,"  said  the  soldier 
who  had  told  him  the  others  were  not  going  to 


84  The  Page  Story  Book 

hurt  Willy.  The  corporal  said  something  to  this 
man  in  an  undertone,  to  which  he  replied : 

"  You  can  try,  but  it  isn't  going  to  do  any 
good.  I  don't  half  like  it,  anyway." 

Frank  had  stopped  crying  after  his  first  out- 
burst. 

"  If  you  don't  tell,  we  are  going  to  shoot  you," 
said  the  little  soldier,  drawing  his  pistol. 

The  boy  shut  his  mouth  close,  and  looked 
straight  at  the  corporal.  The  man  laid  down  his 
pistol,  and  seizing  Frank,  drew  his  hands  behind 
him  and  tied  them. 

"  Get  ready,  men,"  he  said,  as  he  drew  the  boy 
aside  to  a  small  tree,  putting  him  with  his  back 
to  it. 

Frank  thought  his  hour  had  come.  He  thought 
of  his  mother  and  Willy,  and  wondered  if  the  sol- 
diers would  shoot  Willy,  too.  His  face  twitched 
and  grew  ghastly  white.  Then  he  thought  of  his 
father,  and  of  how  proud  he  would  be  of  his  son's 
bravery  when  he  should  hear  of  it.  This  gave 
him  strength. 

"  The  knot — hurts  my  hands,"  he  said. 

The  man  leaned  over  and  eased  it  a  little. 

"  I  wasn't  crying  because  I  was  scared,"  said 
Frank. 

The  kind-looking  fellow  turned  away. 

"  Now,  boys,  get  ready,"  said  the  corporal, 
taking  up  his  pistol. 


Two  Little  Confederates  85 

How  large  it  looked  to  Frank!  He  wondered 
where  the  bullets  would  hit  him,  and  if  the 
wounds  would  bleed,  and  whether  he  would  be 
left  alone  all  night  out  there  in  the  woods,  and 
if  his  mother  would  come  and  kiss  him. 

"  I  want  to  say  my  prayers,"  he  said  faintly. 

The  soldier  made  some  reply  which  he  could 
not  hear,  and  the  man  with  the  beard  started  for- 
ward ;  but  just  then  all  grew  dark  before  his  eyes. 

Next,  he  thought  he  must  have  been  shot,  for 
he  felt  wet  about  his  face,  and  was  lying  down. 
He  heard  some  one  say,  "  He's  coming  to,"  and 
another  replied,  "  Thank  God !  " 

He  opened  his  eyes.  He  was  lying  beside  the 
little  branch,  with  his  head  in  the  lap  of  the  big 
soldier  with  the  beard,  and  the  little  corporal  was 
leaning  over  him  throwing  water  in  his  face  from 
a  cap.  The  others  were  standing  around. 

"  What's  the  matter?  "  asked  Frank. 

"That's  all  right,"  said  the  little  corporal 
kindly.  "  We  were  just  a-foolin'  a  bit  with  you, 
Johnny." 

"  We  never  meant  to  hurt  you,"  said  the  other. 
"  You  feel  better  now  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  where's  Willy  ?  "  He  was  too  tired  to 
move. 

"  He's  all  right.    We'll  take  you  to  him." 

"  Am  I  shot?  "  asked  Frank. 

"  No !     Do  you  think   we'd   have  touched  a 


86  Tfie  Page  Story  Book 

hair  of  your  head — and  you  such  a  brave  little 
fellow?  We  were  just  trying  to  scare  you  a  bit, 
and  carried  it  too  far,  and  you  got  a  little  faint 
—that's  all." 

The  voice  was  so  kindly  that  Frank  was  en- 
couraged to  sit  up. 

"Can  you  walk  now?"  asked  the  corporal, 
helping  him  and  steadying  him  as  he  rose  to  his 
feet. 

"  I'll  take  him,"  said  the  big  fellow,  and  be- 
fore the  boy  could  move,  he  had  stooped,  taken 
Frank  in  his  arms,  and  was  carrying  him  back 
toward  the  place  where  they  had  left  Willy,  while 
the  others  followed  after  with  the  horses. 

"  I  can  walk,"  said  Frank. 

"  No,  I'll  carry  you,  b-bless  your  heart !  " 

The  boy  did  not  know  that  the  big  dragoon 
was  looking  down  at  the  light  hair  resting  on 
his  arm,  and  that  while  he  trod  the  Virginia 
wood-path,  in  fancy  he  was  home  in  Delaware; 
or  that  the  pressure  the  boy  felt  from  his  strong 
arms,  was  a  caress  given  for  the  sake  of  another 
boy  far  away  on  the  Brandywine.  A  little  while 
before  they  came  in  sight  Frank  asked  to  be  put 
down. 

The  soldier  gently  set  him  on  his  feet,  and, 
before  he  let  him  go,  kissed  him. 

"  I've  got  a  curly-headed  fellow  at  home,  just 
the  size  of  you,"  he  said  softly. 


Two  Little  Confederates  87 

Frank  saw  that  his  eyes  were  moist.  "  I  hope 
you'll  get  safe  back  to  him,"  he  said. 

"  God  grant  it !  "  said  the  soldier. 

When  they  reached  the  squad  at  the  gate  they 
found  Willy  still  in  much  distress  on  Frank's  ac- 
count; but  he  wiped  his  eyes  when  his  brother 
reappeared,  and  listened  with  pride  to  the  soldiers' 
praise  of  Frank's  "  grit,"  as  they  called  it.  When 
they  let  the  boys  go,  the  little  corporal  wished 
Frank  to  accept  a  five-dollar  gold  piece,  but  he 
politely  declined  it. 


"NANCY  PANSY" 


ONE  day,  Tom  Adams,  a  Union  officer,  sta- 
tioned in  the  Southern  town  of  Middleburgh,  left 
camp  and  sauntered  up  the  street  alone,  planning 
how  he  could  get  his  company  ordered  once  more 
to  the  front.  He  could  not  stand  this  life  any 
longer.  As  he  strolled  along  the  walk  the  sound 
of  the  cheerful  voices  of  girls  behind  the  mag- 
nolias and  rose  bowers  came  to  him,  and  a  wave 
of  homesickness  swept  over  him  as  he  thought  of 
his  sisters  and  little  nieces  away  up  North. 

Suddenly,  as  he  turned  a  corner,  he  saw  a  small 
figure  walking  slowly  along  before  him ;  the  great 
straw  hat  on  the  back  of  her  head  almost  con- 
cealed the  little  body,  but  her  sunny  hair  was 
peeping  down  below  the  broad  brim,  and  Adams 
knew  the  child. 

She  carried  under  her  arm  an  old  cigar-box, 
out  of  one  end  of  which  peeped  the  head  and 
shoulders  of  an  old  doll,  the  feet  of  which  stuck 
out  of  the  other  end.  A  string  hung  from  the 
box  and  trailed  behind  her  on  the  pathway.  She 
appeared  to  be  very  busy  about  something,  and 


"Nancy  Pansy"  89 

to  be  perfectly  happy,  for  as  she  walked  along 
she  was  singing  out  of  her  content  a  wordless 
little  song  of  her  heart,  "  Tra-la-la,  tra-la-la." 

The  young  officer  fell  into  the  same  gait  with 
the  child,  and  instinctively  trod  softly  to  keep 
from  disturbing  her.  Just  then,  however,  a  burly 
fellow  named  Griff  O'Meara,  who  had  belonged 
to  one  of  the  companies  which  preceded  them, 
and  had  been  transferred  to  Adams's  company, 
came  down  a  side  street  and  turned  into  the  walk- 
way just  behind  the  little  maid.  He  seemed  to 
be  tipsy.  The  trailing  string  caught  his  eye,  and 
he  tipped  forward  and  tried  to  step  on  it.  Adams 
did  not  take  in  what  the  fellow  was  trying  to 
do  until  he  attempted  it  the  second  time.  Then 
he  called  to  him,  but  it  was  too  late;  he  had 
stepped  on  the  cord,  and  jerked  the  box,  doll  and 
all,  from  the  child's  arm.  The  doll  fell,  face 
down,  on  a  stone  and  broke  to  pieces.  The  man 
gave  a  great  laugh,  as  the  little  girl  turned,  with 
a  cry  of  anguish,  and  stooping,  began  to  pick  up 
the  fragments,  weeping  in  a  low,  pitiful  way.  In 
a  second,  Adams  sprang  forward  and  struck  the 
fellow  a  blow  between  the  eyes  which  sent  him 
staggering  off  the  sidewalk,  down  in  the  road, 
flat  on  his  back.  He  rose  with  an  oath,  but 
Adams  struck  him  a  second  blow  which  laid  him 
out  again,  and  the  fellow,  finding  him  to  be  an 
officer,  was  glad  to  slink  off.  Adams  then  turned 


90  The  Page  Story  Book 

to  the  child,  whose  tears,  which  had  dried  for  a 
moment  in  her  alarm  at  the  fight,  now  began  to 
flow  again  over  her  doll. 

"  Her  pretty  head's  all  broke !  Oh — oh — oh !  " 
she  sobbed,  trying  vainly  to  get  the  pieces  to  fit 
into  something  like  a  face. 

The  young  officer  sat  down  on  the  ground  by 
her.  "  Never  mind,  sissy,"  he  said  soothingly, 
"  let  me  see  if  I  can  help  you." 

She  confidingly  handed  him  the  fragments, 
while  she  tried  to  stifle  her  sobs,  and  wiped  her 
eyes  with  her  little  pinafore. 

"  Can  you  do  it  ?  "  she  asked  dolefully  behind 
her  pinafore. 

"  I  hope  so.    What's  you  name?  " 

"  Nancy  Pansy,  and  my  dolly's  named  Harry." 

"  Harry !  "  Tom  looked  at  the  doll's  dress  and 
the  fragments  of  face,  which  certainly  were  not 
masculine. 

"  Yes,  Harry  Hunter.  He's  my  sweetheart." 
She  looked  at  him  to  see  that  he  understood  her. 

"Ah!" 

"  And  sister's,"  she  nodded  confidently. 

"Yes,  I  see.    Where  is  he?" 

"  He's  a  captain  now.  He's  gone  away — 
away."  She  waved  her  hand  in  a  wide  sweep, 
to  give  an  idea  of  the  great  distance  it  was. 
"  He's  in  the  army." 

"  Come  along  with  me,"  said  Tom ;  "  let's  see 


"Nancy  Pansy"  91 

what  we  can  do."  He  gathered  up  all  the  broken 
pieces  in  his  handkerchief,  and  set  out  in  the 
direction  from  which  he  had  come,  Nancy  Pansy 
at  his  side.  She  slipped  her  little  hand  confid- 
ingly into  his. 

;<  You  knocked  that  bad  man  down  for  me, 
didn't  you  ?  "  she  said,  looking  up  into  his  face. 
Tom  had  not  felt  until  then  what  a  hero  he  had 
been. 

;<  Yes,"  he  said  quite  graciously.  The  little 
warm  fingers  worked  themselves  yet  farther  into 
his  palm. 

At  the  corner  they  turned  up  the  street  toward 
the  Court-house  Square,  and  in  a  few  minutes 
were  in  camp.  At  the  sight  of  the  child  with 
Adams  the  whole  camp  turned  out  pell-mell,  as 
if  the  "  long-roll  "  had  beat. 

At  first  Nancy  Pansy  was  a  little  shy,  there 
was  so  much  excitement,  and  she  clung  tightly  to 
Tom  Adams's  hand.  She  soon  found,  however, 
that  they  were  all  friendly. 

Tom  conducted  her  to  his  tent,  where  she  was 
placed  in  a  great  chair,  with  a  horse-cover  over 
it,  as  a  sort  of  throne.  The  story  of  O'Meara's 
act  excited  so  much  indignation  that  Tom  felt  it 
necessary  to  explain  fully  the  punishment  he  had 
given  him. 

Nancy  Pansy,  feeling  that  she  had  an  interest 
in  the  matter,  suddenly  took  up  the  narrative. 


92  The  Page  Story  Book 

"  Yes,  he  jus'  knocked  him  down,"  she  said 
with  the  most  charming  confidence,  to  her  admir- 
ing audience,  her  pink  cheeks  glowing  and  her 
great  eyes  lighting  up  at  the  recital,  as  she  illus- 
trated Tom's  act  with  a  most  expressive  gesture 
of  her  by  no  means  clean  little  fist. 

The  soldiers  about  her  burst  into  a  roar  of  de- 
lighted laughter,  and  made  her  tell  them  again 
and  again  how  it  was  done,  each  time  renewing 
their  applause  over  the  cute  way  in  which  she 
imitated  Tom's  act.  Then  they  all  insisted  on 
being  formally  introduced.  So  Nancy  Pansy 
was  stood  upon  the  table,  and  the  men  came  by 
in  line,  one  by  one,  and  were  presented  to  her. 
It  was  a  regular  levee. 

Presently  she  said  she  must  go  home,  so  she 
was  taken  down;  but  before  she  was  allowed  to 
leave,  she  was  invited  to  go  through  the  camp, 
each  man  insisting  that  she  should  visit  his  tent. 
She  made,  therefore,  a  complete  tour,  and  in  every 
tent  some  souvenir  was  pressed  upon  her,  or  she 
was  begged  to  take  her  choice  of  its  contents. 
Thus,  before  she  had  gone  far,  she  had  her  arms 
full  of  things,  and  a  string  of  men  were  following 
her  bearing  the  articles  she  had  honored  them  by 
accepting.  There  were  little  looking-glasses,  pin- 
cushions, pairs  of  scissors,  pictures,  razors,  bits 
of  gold  lace,  cigar-holders,  scarf-pins,  and  many 
other  things. 


"Nancy  Pansy"  93 

When  she  left  camp  she  was  quite  piled  up 
with  things,  while  Tom  Adams,  who  acted  as  her 
escort,  marched  behind  her  with  a  large  basketful 
besides.  She  did  not  have  room  to  take  Harry, 
so  she  left  her  behind,  on  the  assurance  of  Tom 
that  she  should  be  mended,  and  on  the  engage- 
ment of  the  entire  company  to  take  care  of  her. 
The  soldiers  followed  her  to  the  edge  of  the  camp, 
and  exacted  from  her  a  promise  to  come  again 
next  day,  which  she  agreed  to  do  if  her  mother 
would  let  her.  And  when  she  was  out  of  sight, 
the  whole  command  held  a  council  of  war  over 
the  fragments  of  Harry. 

When  Adams  reached  Judge  Seddon's  gate 
he  made  a  negro  who  was  passing  take  the 
basket  in,  thinking  it  better  not  to  go  himself 
up  to  the  house.  He  said  good-by,  and 
Nancy  Pansy  started  up  the  walk,  while  he 
waited  at  the  gate.  Suddenly  she  turned  and 
came  back. 

"  Good-by !  "  she  said,  standing  on  tiptoe,  and 
putting  up  her  little  face  to  be  kissed. 

The  young  officer  stooped  over  the  gate  and 
kissed  her. 

"  Good-by !     Come  again  to-morrow." 

"  Yes,  if  mamma  will  let  me."  And  she  tripped 
away  with  her  armful  of  presents. 

Tom  Adams  remained  leaning  on  the  gate. 
He  was  thinking  of  his  home  far  away.  Sud- 


94  The  Page  Story  Book 

denly  he  was  aroused  by  hearing  the  astonished 
exclamations  in  the  house  as  Nancy  Pansy  en- 
tered. He  felt  sure  that  they  were  insisting  that 
the  things  should  be  sent  back,  and  fearing  that 
he  might  be  seen,  he  left  the  spot  and  went  slowly 
back  to  camp,  where  he  found  the  soldiers  still 
in  a  state  of  pleasurable  excitement  over  Nancy 
Pansy's  visit.  A  collection  was  taken  up  for  a 
purpose  which  appeared  to  interest  everybody,  and 
a  cap  nearly  full  of  money  was  delivered  to  Tom 
Adams,  with  as  many  directions  as  to  what  he 
was  to  do  with  it  as  though  it  were  to  get  a  me- 
morial for  the  commander-in-chief.  Tom  said  he 
had  already  determined  to  do  the  very  same  thing 
himself ;  still,  if  the  company  wished  to  "  go  in  " 
with  him,  they  could  do  it;  so  he  agreed  to  take 
the  money. 

After  this  the  Baby  Veterans,  as  Tom's  com- 
mand was  nicknamed,  and  Middleburgh  came  to 
understand  each  other  a  good  deal  better  than 
before.  Instead  of  remaining  in  their  camp  or 
marching  up  and  down  the  streets,  with  arrogance 
or  defiance  stamped  on  every  face  and  speaking 
from  every  figure,  the  Baby  Veterans  took  to 
loafing  about  town  in  off-duty  hours,  hanging 
over  the  gates,  or  sauntering  in  the  autumn  twi- 
light up  and  down  the  quiet  walks.  They  and 
Middleburgh  still  recognized  that  there  was  a 
broad  ground  on  which  neither  could  trespass. 


"Nancy  Pansy"  95 

The  Baby  Veterans  still  sang  "  The  Star-span- 
gled Banner "  in  the  Court-house  Grove,  and 
Middleburgh  still  sang  "Dixie  "  and  the  "Bonnie 
Blue  Flag  "  behind  her  rose  trellises ;  but  the  rigid 
investment  of  the  town  relaxed  a  little  as  the  au- 
tumn changed  into  winter,  for  Nancy  Pansy's 
pretty  sister  used  to  get  letters  from  Harry,  who 
was  now  a  major.  Nancy  Pansy  heard  whispers 
of  Harry's  coming  before  long,  and  even  of  the 
whole  army's  coming.  Somehow  a  rumor  of  this 
must  have  reached  the  authorities,  though  Nancy 
Pansy  never  breathed  a  word  of  it ;  for  an  officer 
was  sent  to  investigate  the  matter  and  report 
immediately. 

Just  as  he  arrived  he  received  secret  word  from 
some  one  that  a  rebel  officer  was  actually  in  Mid- 
dleburgh. 

That  afternoon  Nancy  Pansy  was  playing  in 
the  bottom  of  the  yard  when  a  lot  of  soldiers 
came  along  the  street,  and  before  them  rode  a 
strange,  cross-looking  man  with  a  beard.  Tom 
Adams  was  marching  with  the  soldiers,  and  he 
did  not  look  at  all  pleased.  They  stopped  at  the 
old  doctor's  gate,  and  the  strange  man  trotted 
up  to  her  place  and  asked  Nancy  Pansy  if  she 
knew  Captain  Harry  Hunter. 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  said  Nancy  Pansy,  going  up 
to  the  fence  and  poking  her  little  rosy  face  over 
it;  "  Harry's  a  major  now." 


96  The  Page  Story  Book 

"Ah,  Harry's  a  major  now,  is  he?  "  said  the 
strange  man. 

Nancy  Pansy  went  on  to  tell  him  how  her 
Harry  was  named  after  the  other  Harry,  and 
how  she  was  all  broken  now;  but  the  officer  was 
intent  on  something  else. 

"  Where  is  Harry  now  ?  "  he  asked  her. 

"  In  the  house,"  and  she  waved  her  hand  tow- 
ard the  old  doctor's  house  behind  her. 

"  So,  so,"  said  the  officer,  and  went  back  to 
Tom  Adams,  who  looked  annoyed,  and  said: 

"  I  don't  believe  it ;  there's  some  mistake." 

At  this  the  strange  man  got  angry,  and  said: 
"  Lieutenant  Adams,  if  you  don't  want  the  rebel 
caught,  you  can  go  back  to  camp." 

My,  how  angry  Tom  was!  His  face  got  per- 
fectly white,  and  he  said :  "  Major  Black,  you  are 
my  superior,  or  you  wouldn't  dare  to  speak  so  to 
me.  I  have  nothing  to  say  now,  but  some  day  I'll 
outrank  you." 

Nancy  Pansy  did  not  know  what  they  were 
talking  about,  but  she  did  not  like  the  strange  man 
at  all ;  so  when  he  asked  her,  "  Won't  you  show 
me  where  Harry  is  ?  "  at  first  she  said  "  No,"  and 
then  "  Yes,  if  you  won't  hurt  him." 

"  No,  indeed,"  said  the  man. 

As  Tom  Adams  was  there  she  was  not  afraid ; 
so  she  went  outside  the  gate  and  on  into  the  old 
doctor's  yard,  followed  by  the  soldiers  and  Tom 


"Nancy  Pansy"  97 

Adams,  who  still  looked  angry,  and  told  her  she'd 
better  run  home.  Some  of  the  soldiers  went 
around  behind  the  house. 

"Where  is  he?"  the  strange  gentleman 
asked. 

"  Asleep  upstairs  in  the  company-room,"  said 
Nancy  Pansy  in  a  whisper.  "  You  mustn't  make 
any  noise." 

She  opened  the  door,  and  they  entered  the 
house,  Nancy  Pansy  on  tiptoe  and  the  others  step- 
ping softly.  She  was  surprised  to  see  the  strange 
man  draw  a  pistol;  but  she  was  used  to  seeing 
pistols,  so,  though  Tom  Adams  told  her  again  to 
run  home,  she  stayed  there. 

"Which  is  the  company-room?"  asked  the 
strange  man. 

She  pointed  to  the  door  at  the  head  of  the 
steps.  "  That's  it." 

He  turned  to  the  soldiers. 

"  Come  ahead,  men,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice, 
and  ran  lightly  up  the  stairs,  looking  very  fierce. 
When  he  reached  the  door  he  seized  the  knob  and 
dashed  into  the  room. 

Then  Nancy  Pansy  heard  him  say  some 
naughty  words,  and  she  ran  up  the  stairs  to  see 
what  was  the  matter. 

They  were  all  standing  around  the  big  bed  on 
which  she  had  laid  Harry  an  hour  before,  with 
her  head  on  a  pillow ;  but  a  jerk  of  the  counter- 


98  The  Page  Story  Book 

pane  had  thrown  Harry  over  on  her  face,  and  her 
broken  neck  and  ear  looked  very  bad. 

"  Oh,  you've  waked  her  up !  "  cried  Nancy 
Pansy,  rushing  forward  and  turning  the  doll 
over. 

The  strange  man  stamped  out  of  the  room, 
looking  perfectly  furious,  and  the  soldiers  all 
laughed.  Tom  Adams  looked  pleased. 


n 

One  morning  all  Middleburgh  was  astonished 
by  the  news  that  old  Dr.  Hunter  had  been  ar- 
rested in  the  night  by  the  soldiers  who  had  come 
down  from  Washington,  and  had  been  carried  off 
somewhere.  There  had  not  been  such  excitement 
since  the  Middleburgh  Artillery  had  marched 
away  to  the  war.  The  old  doctor  was  sacred. 
Why,  to  carry  him  off,  and  stop  his  old  buggy 
rattling  about  the  streets,  was,  in  Middleburgh's 
eyes,  like  stopping  the  chariot  of  the  sun,  or  turn- 
ing the  stars  out  of  their  courses.  "  Why  did 
they  not  arrest  Nancy  Pansy  too  ?  "  asked  Mid- 
dleburgh. Nancy  Pansy  cried  all  day,  and  many 
times  after,  whenever  she  thought  about  it.  She 
went  to  Tom  Adams's  camp  and  begged  him  to 
bring  her  old  doctor  back ;  and  Tom  Adams  said 
as  he  had  not  had  him  arrested  he  could  not  tell 
what  he  could  do,  but  he  would  do  all  he  could. 


"Nancy  Pansy"  99 

Then  she  wrote  the  old  doctor  a  letter.  However, 
all  Middleburgh  would  not  accept  Tom  Adams's 
statement  as  Nancy  Pansy  did,  and  instead  of 
holding  him  as  a  favorite,  it  used  to  speak  of  him 
as  "  That  Tom  Adams."  Every  old  woman  in 
Middleburgh  declared  she  was  worse  than  she 
had  been  in  ten  years,  and  old  Mrs.  Hippin  took 
to  her  crutch,  which  she  had  not  used  in  twelve 
months,  and  told  Nancy  Pansy's  sister  she  would 
die  in  a  week  unless  she  could  hear  the  old  doctor's 
buggy  rattle  again.  But  when  the  fever  broke 
out  in  the  little  low  houses  down  on  the  river, 
things  began  to  look  very  serious.  The  surgeon 
from  the  camp  went  to  see  the  patients,  but  they 
died,  and  more  were  taken  ill.  When  a  number 
of  other  cases  occurred  in  the  town  itself,  all  of 
the  most  malignant  type,  the  surgeon  admitted 
that  it  was  a  form  of  fever  with  which  he 
was  not  familiar.  There  had  never  been  such 
an  epidemic  in  Middleburgh  before,  and  Mid- 
dleburgh said  that  it  was  all  due  to  the  old 
doctor's  absence. 

One  day  Nancy  Pansy  went  to  the  camp  to  ask 
about  the  old  doctor,  and  saw  a  man  sitting 
astride  of  a  fence  rail  which  was  laid  on  two  posts 
high  up  from  the  ground.  He  had  a  stone  tied 
to  each  foot,  and  he  was  groaning.  She  looked 
up  at  him,  and  saw  that  it  was  the  man  who  had 
broken  her  doll.  She  was  about  to  run  away,  but 


loo  The  Page  Story  Book 

he  groaned  so,  she  thought  he  must  be  in  great 
pain,  and  that  always  hurt  her;  so  she  went 
closer,  and  asked  him  what  was  the  matter.  She 
did  not  understand  just  what  he  said,  but  it  was 
something  about  the  weight  on  his  feet;  so  she 
first  tried  to  untie  the  strings  which  held  the 
stones,  and  then,  as  there  was  a  barrel  standing 
by,  she  pushed  at  it  until  she  got  it  up  close  under 
him,  and  told  him  to  rest  his  feet  on  that,  while 
she  ran  home  and  asked  her  mamma  to  lend  her 
her  scissors.  In  pushing  the  barrel  she  broke 
Harry's  head  in  pieces ;  but  she  was  so  busy  she 
did  not  mind  it  then.  Just  as  she  got  the  barrel 
in  place  some  one  called  her,  and,  turning  around, 
she  saw  a  sentinel.  He  told  her  to  go  away,  and 
he  kicked  the  barrel  from  under  the  man  and  let 
the  stones  drop  down  and  jerk  his  ankles  again. 
Nancy  Pansy  began  to  cry,  and  ran  off  up  to 
Tom  Adams's  tent  and  told  him  all  about  it,  and 
how  the  poor  man  was  groaning.  Tom  Adams 
tried  to  explain  that  this  man  had  got  drunk,  and 
that  he  was  a  bad  man,  and  was  the  same  one 
who  had  broken  her  doll.  It  had  no  effect.  "  Oh, 
but  it  hurts  him  so  bad !  "  said  Nancy  Pansy,  and 
she  cried  until  Tom  Adams  called  a  man  and 
told  him  he  might  go  and  let  O'Meara  down,  and 
tell  him  that  the  little  girl  had  begged  him  off 
this  time.  Nancy  Pansy,  however,  ran  herself, 
and  called  to  him  that  Tom  Adams  said  he  might 


"Nancy  Pansy'1  101 

get  down.  When  he  was  on  the  ground,  he 
walked  up  to  her,  and  said : 

"  May  the  Holy  Virgin  kape  you !  Griff 
O'Meara'll  never  forgit  you." 

A  few  days  after  that  Nancy  Pansy  complained 
of  headache,  and  her  mother  kept  her  in  the  house. 
That  evening  her  face  was  flushed,  and  she  had 
a  fever ;  so  her  mother  put  her  to  bed  and  sat  by 
her.  She  went  to  sleep,  but  waked  in  the  night, 
talking  very  fast.  She  had  a  burning  fever,  and 
was  quite  out  of  her  head.  Mrs.  Seddon  sent  for 
the  surgeon  next  morning,  and  he  came  and 
stayed  some  time.  When  he  returned  to  camp 
he  went  to  Tom  Adams's  tent.  He  looked  so 
grave  as  he  came  in  that  Adams  asked  quickly : 

"  Any  fresh  cases  ?  " 

"  Not  in  camp."    He  sat  down. 

"Where?" 

"  That  little  girl — Nancy  Pansy." 

Tom  Adams's  face  turned  whiter  than  it  had 
ever  turned  in  battle. 

"Is  she  ill?" 

"  Desperately." 

Tom  Adams  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"  How  long — how  long  can  she  hold  out?  "  he 
asked,  in  a  broken  voice. 

"  Twenty-four  hours,  perhaps,"  said  the  sur- 
geon. 

Tom  Adams  put  on  his  cap  and  left  the  tent 


IO2  The  Page  Story  Book 

Five  minutes  later  he  was  in  the  hall  at  the 
Judge's.  Just  as  he  entered,  Nancy  Pansy's  sis- 
ter came  quickly  out  of  a  door.  She  had  been 
crying. 

"  How  is  she?  I  have  just  this  instant  heard 
of  it,"  said  Tom,  with  real  grief  in  his  voice. 

She  put  her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes. 

"  So  ill,"  she  sobbed. 

"  Can  I  see  her  ?  "  asked  Tom  gently. 
"  "  Yes ;  it  won't  hurt  her." 

When  Tom  Adams  entered  the  room  he  was  so 
shocked  that  he  stopped  still.  Mrs.  Seddon  bent 
over  the  bed  with  her  face  pale  and  worn,  and  in 
the  bed  lay  Nancy  Pansy,  so  changed  that  Tom 
Adams  never  would  have  known  her.  She  had 
fallen  off  so  in  that  short  time  that  he  would  not 
have  recognized  her.  Her  face  was  perfectly 
white,  except  two  bright  red  spots  on  her  cheeks. 
She  was  drawing  short,  quick  breaths,  and  was 
talking  very  fast  all  the  time.  No  one  could 
understand  just  what  she  was  saying,  but  a 
good  deal  of  it  was  about  Harry  and  the  old 
doctor.  Tom  bent  over  her,  but  she  did  not 
know  him;  she  just  went  on  talking  faster  than 
ever. 

"Nancy  Pansy,  don't  you  know  Tom  Adams?" 
her  mother  asked  her,  in  a  soothing  voice.  She 
had  never  called  the  young  man  so  before,  and  he 
felt  that  it  gave  him  a  place  with  Nancy  Pansy. 


"Nancy  Pansy"  103 

But  the  child  did  not  know  him;  she  said  some- 
thing about  not  having  any  Harry.  „ 

"  She  is  growing  weaker,"  said  her  mother. 

Tom  Adams  leaned  over  and  kissed  the  child, 
and  left  the  room. 

As  he  came  down  the  steps  he  met  Griff 
O'Meara,  who  asked  how  the  "  little  gurl "  was, 
"bless  her  sowl!"  When  he  told  him,  Griff 
turned  away  and  wiped  his  eyes  with  the  back  of 
his  hand.  Tom  Adams  told  him  to  stay  there 
and  act  as  guard,  which  Griff  vowed  he'd  do  if 
the  "  howl  ribel  army  kem." 

Ten  minutes  later  Tom  galloped  out  of  camp 
with  a  paper  in  his  pocket  signed  by  the  surgeon. 
In  an  hour  he  had  covered  the  twelve  miles  of 
mud  which  lay  between  Middleburgh  and  the 
nearest  telegraph  station,  and  was  sending  a  mes- 
sage to  General  ,  his  commander.  At  last 

an  answer  came.  Tom  Adams  read  it. 

"  Tell  him  it  is  a  matter  of  life  and  death,"  he 
said  to  the  operator.  "  Tell  him  there  is  no  one 
else  who  understands  it  and  can  check  it,  and  tell 
him  it  must  be  done  before  the  afternoon  train 
leaves,  or  it  will  be  too  late.  Here,  I'll  write  it 
out."  And  he  did  so,  putting  all  his  eloquence 
into  the  despatch. 

Late  that  night  two  men  galloped  through  the 
mud  and  slush  in  the  direction  of  Middleburgh. 
The  younger  one  had  a  large  box  before  him  on 


IO4  The  Page  Story  Book 

his  horse ;  the  other  was  quite  an  old  man.  Picket 
after  picket  was  passed  with  a  word  spoken  by 
the  younger  man,  and  they  galloped  on.  At  last 
they  stopped  at  the  Judge's  gate,  and  sprang  from 
their  splashed  and  smoking  horses. 

As  they  hurried  up  the  walk,  the  guard  at  the 
steps  challenged  them  in  a  rich  Irish  brogue. 

"  It's  I,  O'Meara.  You  here  still  ?  How  is 
she?" 

"  'Most  in  the  Holy  Virgin's  arms,"  said  the 
Irishman. 

"  Is  she  alive  ?  "  asked  both  men. 

"  It's  a  docther  can  tell  that,"  said  the  sentinel. 
"  They  thought  her  gone  an  hour  ago.  There's 
several  in  there,"  he  said  to  his  captain.  "  I 
didn't  let  'em  in  at  firrst,  but  the  young  leddy  said 
they  wuz  the  frien's  of  the  little  gurl,  an'  I  let  'em 
by  a  bit." 

A  minute  later  the  old  man  entered  the  sick- 
room, while  Tom  Adams  stopped  at  the  door  out- 
side. There  was  a  general  cry,  as  he  entered, 
"Oh,  doctor!" 

And  Mrs.  Seddon  called  him :  "  Quick,  quick, 
doctor !  she's  dying !  " 

"  She's  dead,"  said  one  of  the  ladies  who 
stood  by. 

The  old  doctor  bent  over  the  little  still  white 
form,  and  his  countenance  fell.  She  was  not 
breathing.  With  one  hand  he  picked  up  her  little 


"  Nancy  Pansy  "  105 

white  arm  and  felt  for  the  pulse;  with  the  other 
he  took  a  small  case  from  his  pocket.  "  Brandy," 
he  said  It  was  quickly  handed  him.  He  poured 
some  into  a  little  syringe,  and  stuck  it  into  Nancy 
Pansy's  arm,  by  turns  holding  her  wrist  and  feel- 
ing over  her  heart. 

Presently  he  said  quietly/"  She's  living,"  and 
both  Mrs.  Seddon  and  Nancy  Pansy's  sister  said, 
"Thank  God!" 

All  night  long  the  old  doctor  worked  over 
Nancy  Pansy.  Just  before  dawn  he  said  to  Mrs. 
Seddon,  "What  day  is  this?" 

"  Christmas  morning,"  said  Mrs.  Seddon. 

"  Well,  madam,  I  hope  God  has  answered  your 
prayers,  and  given  your  babe  back  to  you ;  I  hope 
the  crisis  is  passed.  Have  you  hung  up  her 
stocking?  " 

"  No,"  said  Nancy  Pansy's  mother.  "  She 
was  so — "  She  could  not  say  anything  more. 
Presently  she  added,  "  She  was  all  the  time  talk- 
ing about  you  and  Harry." 

The  old  doctor  rose  and  went  out  of  the  room. 
It  was  about  dawn.  He  left  the  house  and  went 
over  to  his  own  home.  There  after  some  diffi- 
culty, he  got  in,  and  went  to  his  office.  His  old 
secretary  had  been  opened  and  papers  taken  out, 
but  the  old  man  did  not  seem  to  mind  it.  Pulling 
the  secretary  out  from  the  wall,  he  touched  a 
secret  spring.  It  did  not  work  at  first,  but  after 


io6  The  Page  Story  Book 

a  while  it  moved,  and  he  put  his  hand  under  it 
and  pulled  out  a  secret  drawer.  In  it  were  a 
number  of  small  parcels  carefully  tied  up  with 
pieces  of  ribbon,  which  were  now  quite  faded,  and 
from  one  peeped  a  curl  of  soft  brown  hair,  like 
that  of  a  little  girl.  The  old  doctor  laid  his 
fingers  softly  on  it,  and  his  old  face  wore  a  gentle 
look.  The  largest  bundle  was  wrapped  in  oil- 
silk.  This  he  took  out  and  carefully  unwrapped. 
Inside  was  yet  another  wrapping  of  tissue  paper. 
He  put  the  bundle,  with  a  sigh,  into  his  overcoat 
pocket,  and  went  slowly  back  to  the  Judge's. 
Nancy  Pansy  was  still  sleeping  quietly. 

The  old  doctor  asked  for  a  stocking,  and  it 
was  brought  him.  He  took  the  bundle  from  his 
pocket,  and,  unwrapping  it,  held  it  up.  It  was 
a  beautiful  doll,  with  yellow  hair  done  up  with 
little  tucking  combs  such  as  ladies  used  to  wear, 
and  with  a  lovely  little  old  tiny-flowered  silk 
dress. 

^ "  She  is  thirty  years  old,  madam,"  he  said 
gently  to  Mrs.  Seddon,  as  he  slipped  the  doll  into 
the  stocking  and  hung  it  on  the  bed-post.  "  I 
have  kept  her  for  thirty  years,  thinking  I  could 
never  give  it  to  any  one;  but  last  night  I  knew 
I  loved  Nancy  Pansy  enough  to  give  it  to  her." 
He  leaned  over  and  felt  her  pulse.  "  She  is  sleep- 
ing well,"  he  said. 

Just  then  the  door  opened,  and  in  tripped  Tom 


"Nancy  Pansy"  107 

Adams,  followed  by  Griff  O'Meara  in  his  stock- 
ing feet,  bearing  a  large  baby-house  fitted  up  like 
a  perfect  palace,  with  every  room  carpeted  and 
furnished,  and  with  a  splendid  doll  sitting  on  a 
balcony. 

"  A  Christmas  gift  to  that  blessed  angel,  from 
the  Baby  Veterans,  mem,"  he  said,  as  he  set  it 
down;  and  then  taking  from  his  bulging  pocket 
a  large  red-cheeked  doll  in  a  green  frock,  he  placed 
it  in  the  door  of  the  house,  saying,  with  great 
pride :  "  An'  this  from  Griff  O'Meara.  Heaven 
bless  her  swate  sowl !  " 

Just  then  Nancy  Pansy  stirred,  and  opened  her 
eyes.  Her  mother  bent  over  her,  and  she  smiled 
faintly.  Mrs.  Seddon  slipped  down  on  her  knees. 

"  Where's  my  old  doctor,  and  my  dolly  ?  "  she 
said ;  and  then,  presently,  "  Where's  Harry,  and 
Tom  Adams  ?  " 


THE    CHRISTMAS    PEACE 


GENERAL  HAMPDEN  and  Colonel  Drayton 
were  old  men — and  enemies.  They  had  been 
enemies  for  many  years,  "heir  fathers  and 
grandfathers  had  been  enemies.  Indeed,  a  feud, 
dating  from  the  settlement  in  colonial  days  of 
adjoining  plantations,  had  existed  between  the 
Hampdens  and  the  Draytons. 

As  boys,  General  Hampden  and  Colonel  Dray- 
ton  had  been  fast  friends.  Born  in  the  same 
month,  they  played  together  and  went  to  school 
together;  at  college  they  were  inseparable  com- 
panions. It  looked  for  a  time  as  though  the  long- 
standing feud  between  the  families  might  be 
ended. 

But  troubles  and  misunderstandings  arose. 
There  was  a  lawsuit  over  a  boundary  line  be- 
tween the  plantations,  which  Colonel  Drayton 
lost.  There  was  rivalry  for  the  hand  of  the  pret- 
tiest girl  in  all  the  region,  which  Colonel  Dray- 
ton won.  There  was  difference  of  opinion  and 
a  bitter  controversy  over  slavery  and  secession. 
108 


The  Christmas  Peace  109 

General  Hampden  had  an  only  son,  Oliver. 
Colonel  Drayton  had  an  only  daughter,  Lucy. 
Oliver  and  Lucy,  unmindful  of  the  family  feud, 
fell  in  love  with  each  other.  With  difficulty  Oli- 
ver had  obtained  his  father's  consent  to  ask 
Colonel  Drayton  for  his  daughter  in  marriage. 
The  Colonel  refused  the  young  man's  request, 
although  he  could  not  prevent  his  daughter  pledg- 
ing herself  to  marry  no  one  else. 

When  Oliver  told  his  father  of  the  failure  of 
his  suit,  General  Hampden's  rage  knew  no 
bounds.  He  threatened  to  ride  straight  to  Dray- 
ton's  house  and  horsewhip  him  on  the  spot. 

"  I  hope  you  are  satisfied/'  he  said  sternly. 
"  I  make  but  one  request  of  you :  that  from  this 
time  forth  you  will  never  mention  the  name  of 
Drayton  to  me  again  as  long  as  you  live." 

The  Civil  War  had  broken  out,  and  General 
Hampden  and  his  son  were  among  the  first  to 
enlist.  Colonel  Drayton,  though  opposed  to  se- 
cession, volunteered  after  his  State  had  seceded. 
His  daughter  went  to  the  army  hospitals  as  nurse. 

Young  Hampden,  who  had  risen  to  the  rank 
of  captain,  was  dangerously  wounded.  By  chance 
he  fell  to  the  care  of  Lucy  Drayton,  who  nursed 
him  back  to  life.  When  he  had  sufficiently  re- 
covered they  were  married,  Lucy  having  first  ob- 
tained her  father's  consent.  But  Oliver,  remem- 
bering his  father's  bitterness,  did  not  inform  him 


HO  The  Page  Story  Book 

of  his  proposed  marriage.  In  this  he  made  a 
mistake,  for  his  father  was  mortally  offended. 

Still  an  invalid,  Oliver  Hampden  went  South 
with  his  bride.  There  he  died  suddenly,  too  sud- 
denly for  his  wife  to  warn  the  father.  She  wrote 
to  General  Hampden,  however,  informing  him  of 
his  son's  death,  but  by  some  evil  chance  the  letter 
never  reached  its  destination;  and  it  was  some 
weeks  later  when,  by  accident,  the  General  learned 
of  Oliver's  death. 

This  was  a  terrible  blow  to  him,  for  he  had 
just  decided  to  make  friends  with  his  son.  He 
naturally  blamed  the  young  wife  that  he  was  not 
informed  of  Oliver's  illness  and  death. 

Thus  it  happened  that  when  her  son  was  born, 
Lucy  Hampden  made  no  announcement  of  his 
birth  to  the  General,  and  he  remained  in  igno- 
rance of  it. 

When  the  war  closed,  General  Hampden, 
soured  and  embittered  by  his  domestic  troubles, 
devoted  all  his  energies  to  building  up  a  new  for- 
tune. In  this  he  was  very  successful.  Colonel 
Drayton,  however,  never  practical,  was  unable  to 
adapt  himself  to  the  changed  conditions.  What- 
ever he  attempted,  failed.  At  last  his  plantation, 
heavily  mortgaged,  had  to  be  sold.  General 
Hampden  bought  it. 

Colonel  Drayton  went  South  to  live  with  his 
daughter,  who  was  supporting  herself  and  child 


The  Christmas  Peace  1 1 1 

by  teaching-.  The  Colonel  and  his  grandchild  be- 
came most  intimate  companions. 

Meantime  General  Hampden's  health  gave  way. 
His  doctor  ordered  him  to  take  a  rest — to  go 
South  for  the  winter. 

The  General  thought  over  the  doctor's  advice 
and  finally  followed  it,  though  not  for  the  reason 
the  physician  supposed. 

Something  led  him  to  select  the  place  where 
his  son  had  gone,  and  where  his  body  lay  amid 
the  magnolias.  If  he  was  going  to  die,  he  would 
carry  out  a  plan  which  he  had  formed  in  the 
lonely  hours  when  he  lay  awake  between  the 
strokes  of  the  clock.  He  would  go  and  see  that 
his  son's  grave  was  cared  for,  and,  if  he  could, 
would  bring  him  back  home  at  last.  Doubtless 
"  that  woman's  "  consent  could  be  bought.  She 
had  possibly  married  again.  He  hoped  she  had. 


II 


Christmas  is  always  the  saddest  of  seasons  to 
a  lonely  man,  and  General  Hampden,  when  he 
landed  in  that  old  Southern  town  on  the  after- 
noon of  Christmas  Eve,  would  not  have  been 
lonelier  in  a  desert.  The  signs  of  Christmas 
preparation  and  the  sounds  of  Christmas  cheer 
but  made  him  lonelier. 


112  The  Page  Story  Book 

As  soon  as  the  old  fellow  had  got  settled  in  his 
room  at  the  hotel  he  paid  a  visit  to  his  son's  grave, 
piloted  to  the  cemetery  by  a  friendly  and  garru- 
lous old  negro  hackman,  who  talked  much  about 
Christmas  and  "  the  holidays." 

"  Yes,  suh,  dat  he  had  known  Cap'n  Ham'n. 
He  used  to  drive  him  out  long  as  he  could  drive 
out.  He  had  been  at  his  funeral.  He  knew  Mrs. 
Ham'n,  too.  She  sutney  is  a  fine  lady,"  he 
wound  up  in  sincere  eulogy. 

The  General  gave  a  grunt. 

He  was  nearer  to  his  son  than  he  had  ever 
been  since  the  day  he  last  saw  him  in  all  the 
pride  and  beauty  of  a  gallant  young  soldier. 

The  grave,  at  least,  was  not  neglected.  It  was 
marked  by  a  modest  cross,  on  which  were  the 
Hampden  coat-of-arms  and  the  motto  " Loyal" 
and  it  was  banked  in  fresh  evergreens,  and  some 
flowers  had  been  placed  on  it  only  that  afternoon. 
It  set  the  General  to  thinking. 

When  he  returned  to  his  hotel  he  found  the 
loneliness  unbearable.  His  visit  to  his  son's  grave 
had  opened  the  old  wound  and  awakened  all  his 
memories.  He  knew  now  that  he  had  ruined  his 
life.  He  had  no  care  to  live  longer.  He  would 
return  to  work,  and  die  in  harness. 

He  sent  his  servant  to  the  office  and  arranged 
for  his  car  to  be  put  on  the  first  train  next  morn- 
ing. Then,  to  escape  from  his  thoughts,  he 


The  Christmas  Peace  113 

strolled  out  in  the   street,  where  the  shopping 
crowds  streamed  along,  old  and  young,  poor  and 
well-to-do,  their  arms  full  of  bundles,  their  faces ' 
eager,  and  their  eyes  alight. 

General  Hampden  seemed  to  himself  to  be 
walking  among  ghosts.  As  he  stalked  on,  bitter 
and  lonely,  he  was  suddenly  run  into  by  a  very 
little  boy,  in  whose  small  arms  was  so  big  a  bundle 
that  he  could  scarcely  see  over  it.  The  shock  of 
the  collision  knocked  the  little  fellow  down,  sit- 
ting flat  on  the  pavement,  still  clutching  his 
bundle.  But  his  face,  after  the  first  shadow  of 
surprise,  lit  up  again. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir ;  that  was  my  fault," 
he  said,  with  so  quaint  an  imitation  of  an  old 
person  that  the  General  could  not  help  smiling. 
With  a  cheery  laugh  he  tried  to  rise  to  his  feet, 
but  the  bundle  was  too  heavy,  and  he  would  not 
let  it  go. 

The  General  bent  over  him,  and,  with  an  apol- 
ogy, set  him  on  his  feet.  "  I  beg  your  pardon, 
sir.  That  was  my  fault.  That  is  a  pretty  big 
bundle  you  have." 

"  Yes,  sir ;  and,  I  tell  you,  it  is  pretty  heavy, 
too,"  the  manikin  said  proudly.  "  It's  a  Christ- 
mas gift." 

He  started  on,  and  the  General  turned  with 
him. 

"A  Christmas  gift!     It  must  be  a  fine  one. 


U4  The  Page  Story  Book 

Who  gave  it  to  you  ? "  demanded  the  Gen- 
eral, with  a  smile  at  the  little  fellow's  confi- 
dence. 

"  It  is  a  fine  one!  Didn't  anybody  give  it  to 
me.  We're  giving  it  to  somebody." 

"  Oh,  you  are  I    To  whom  ?  " 

"  I'll  tell  you,  but  you  must  promise  not  to 
tell." 

"  I  promise  I  will  not  tell  a  soul.  I  cross  my 
heart."  He  made  a  sign,  as  he  remembered  he 
used  to  do  in  his  boyhood. 

The  boy  looked  up  at  him  doubtfully  with  a 
shade  of  disapproval. 

"  My  grandfather  says  that  you  must  not  cross 
your  heart ;  't  a  gentleman's  word  is  enough,"  he 
said  quaintly. 

"  Oh,  he  does  ?    Well,  I  give  my  word." 

"  Well — "  He  glanced  around  to  see  that  no 
one  was  listening,  and  sidling  a  little  nearer, 
lowered  his  voice :  "  It's  a  great-coat  for  grand- 
father!" 

"  A  great-coat !  That's  famous !  "  exclaimed 
the  General. 

"  Yes,  isn't  it  ?  You  see,  he's  mighty  old,  and 
he's  got  a  bad  cough — he  caught  it  in  the  army — 
and  I  have  to  take  care  of  him.  Don't  you  think 
that's  right?" 

"Of  course  I  do,"  said  the  General,  envying 
one  grandfather. 


The  Christmas  Peace  115 

"  That's  what  I  tell  him.  So  mamma  and  I 
have  bought  this  for  him." 

"  He  must  be  a  proud  grandfather,"  said 
the  General,  with  envy  biting  deeper  at  his 
heart. 

"  I  have  another  grandfather,  but  I  don't  like 
him"  continued  the  little  fellow. 

"  I  am  sorry  for  that,"  said  the  General  sin- 
cerely. "Why  is  that?" 

"  He  was  mean  to  my  father,  and  he  is  mean  to 
my  mother."  His  voice  conveyed  a  sudden  bit- 
terness. 

"Oh!" 

"  Mamma  says  I  must  like  him ;  but  I  do  not. 
I  just  can't.  You  would  not  like  a  man  who  was 
mean  to  your  mother,  would  you  ?  " 

"  I  would  not,"  declared  the  General  truth- 
fully. 

"  And  I  am  not  going  to  like  him,"  asserted 
the  boy  with  firmness. 

The  General  suddenly  pitied  one  grandfather. 

They  had  come  to  a  well-lighted  corner,  and 
as  the  boy  lifted  his  face,  the  light  fell  on  it. 
Something  about  the  bright,  sturdy  countenance, 
with  its  frank,  dark  eyes  and  brown  hair,  sud- 
denly sent  the  General  back  thirty  years  to  a  strip 
of  meadow  on  which  two  children  were  playing, 
one  a  dark-eyed  boy  as  sturdy  as  this  one.  It 
was  like  an  arrow  in  his  heart.  With  a  gasp  he 


1 1 6  The  Page  Story  Book 

came  back  to  the  present.  His  thoughts  pursued 
him  even  here. 

"  What  is  your  name?  "  he  asked,  as  he  was 
feeling  in  his  pocket  for  a  coin. 

"  Oliver  Drayton  Hampden,  sir." 

The  words  were  perfectly  clear. 

The  General's  heart  stopped  beating,  and  then 
gave  a  bound.  The  skies  suddenly  opened  for 
him,  and  then  shut  up  again. 

His  exclamation  brought  the  child  to  a  stop, 
and  he  glanced  up  at  him  in  vague  wonder.  The 
General  stooped  and  gazed  at  him  searchingly, 
almost  fiercely.  The  next  second  he  had  pounced 
upon  him  and  lifted  him  in  his  arms,  while  the 
bundle  fell  to  the  pavement. 

"  My  boy,  I  am  your  grandfather !  "  he  cried, 
kissing  him  violently.  "  I  am  your  grandfather 
Hampden/' 

The  child  was  lost  in  amazement  for  a  moment, 
and  then,  putting  his  hands  against  the  General's 
face,  he  pushed  him  slowly  away. 

"  Put  me  down,  please,"  he  said,  with  that 
gravity  which  in  a  child  means  so  much. 

General  Hampden  set  him  down  on  the  pave- 
ment. The  boy  looked  at  him  searchingly  for  a 
second,  and  then  turned  in  silence  and  lifted  his 
bundle.  The  General's  face  wore  a  puzzled  look ; 
he  had  solved  many  problems,  but  he  had  never 
had  one  more  difficult  than  this.  His  heart 


The  Christmas  Peace  117 

yearned  toward  the  child,  and  he  knew  that  on 
his  own  wisdom  at  that  moment  might  depend 
his  future  happiness,  that  on  his  next  words  might 
hang  for  him  life  or  death.  The  expression  on 
the  boy's  face,  and  the  very  set  of  his  little  back 
as  he  sturdily  tugged  at  his  burden,  recalled  his 
father,  and  with  it  the  General  recognized  the 
obstinacy  which  he  knew  lurked  in  the  Hampden 
blood,  which  had  once  been  his  pride. 

"  Oliver,"  he  said  gravely,  leaning  down  over 
the  boy  and  putting  his  hand  on  him  gently, 
"  there  has  been  a  great  mistake.  I  am  going 
home  with  you  to  your  mother  and  tell  her  so. 
I  want  to  see  her,  and  your  grandfather,  and  I 
think  I  can  explain  everything." 

The  child  turned  and  gazed  at  him  seriously, 
and  then  his  face  relaxed.  He  recognized  his 
deep  sincerity. 

"  All  right."  He  turned  and  walked  down  the 
street,  bending  under  his  burden.  The  General 
offered  to  carry  it  for  him,  but  he  declined. 

"  I  can  carry  it,"  was  the  only  answer  he  made, 
except  once,  when,  as  the  General  rather  insisted, 
he  said  firmly,  "  I  want  to  carry  it  myself,"  and 
tottered  on. 

A  silence  fell  on  them  for  a  moment.  A 
young  man  passing  them  spoke  to  the  child 
cheerily. 

"Halloo,   Oliver!     A   Christmas   present? — 


n8  The  Page  Story  Book 

That's  a  great  boy,"  he  said  in  sheer  friendliness 
to  the  General,  and  passed  on.  The  boy  was 
evidently  well  known. 

Oliver  nodded;  then,  feeling  that  some  civility 
was  due  on  his  part  to  his  companion,  he  said 
briefly,  "  That's  a  friend  of  mine." 

"  Evidently." 

The  General,  even  in  his  perplexity,  smiled  at 
the  quaint  way  the  child  imitated  the  manners 
of  older  men. 

Just  then  they  came  to  a  little  gate,  and  the 
boy's  manner  changed. 

"  If  you  will  wait,  I  will  run  around  and  put 
my  bundle  down.  I  am  afraid  my  grandfather 
might  see  it."  He  lowered  his  voice  for  the  first 
time  since  the  General  had  introduced  himself. 
Then  he  disappeared  around  the  house. 

Oliver,  having  slipped  in  at  the  back  door  and 
carefully  reconnoitred  the  premises,  tripped  up- 
stairs with  his  bundle  to  his  mother's  room.  He 
was  so  excited  over  his  present  that  he  failed  to 
observe  her  confusion  at  his  sudden  entrance,  or 
her  hasty  hiding  away  of  something  on  which 
she  was  working.  Colonel  Drayton  was  not  the 
only  member  of  that  household  that  Christmas 
who  was  to  receive  a  great-coat. 

When  Oliver  had  untied  his  bundle,  nothing 
would  serve  but  he  must  put  on  the  coat  to  show 
his  mother  how  his  grandfather  would  look  in  it. 


The  Christmas  Peace  119 

As  even  with  the  sleeves  rolled  up,  and  with  his 
arms  held  out  to  keep  it  from  falling  off  him, 
the  tails  dragged  for  some  distance  on  the  floor, 
and  only  the  top  of  his  head  was  visible  above 
the  collar,  the  resemblance  was  possibly  not 
wholly  exact.  But  it  appeared  to  satisfy  the  boy. 
He  was  showing  how  his  grandfather  walked, 
when  he  suddenly  recalled  his  new  acquaintance. 

"  I  met  my  other  grandfather  on  the  street, 
mamma,  and  he  came  home  with  me."  He  spoke 
quite  naturally. 

"  Met  your  other  grandfather!  "  Mrs.  Hamp- 
den  looked  mystified. 

"  He  says  he  is  my  grandfather,  and  he  looks 
like  papa.  I  reckon  he's  my  other  grandfather. 
He  ran  against  me  in  the  street  and  knocked  me 
down,  and  then  came  home  with  me/' 

"  Came  home  with  you !  "  repeated  Mrs.  Hamp- 
den,  still  in  a  maze,  and  with  a  vague  trouble 
dawning  in  her  face. 

"  Yes'm." 

Oliver  went  over  the  meeting  again. 

His  mother's  face  meantime  showed  the  tumult 
of  emotion  that  was  sweeping  over  her.  Why 
had  General  Hampden  come?  What  had  he 
come  for  ?  To  try  and  take  her  boy  from  her  ? 

At  the  thought,  her  face  and  form  took  on 
something  of  the  lioness  that  guards  her  whelp. 
Then,  as  the  little  boy  repeated  what  his  grand- 


I2O  The  Page  Story  Book 

father  had  said  of  his  reason  for  coming  home 
with  him,  her  face  softened  again. 

"  Oliver,"  she  said,  "  you  must  go  down  and 
let  him  in.  Say  I  will  come  down." 

"  I  will  not  like  him,"  said  the  child,  his  eyes 
on  her  face. 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  must ;  he  is  your  grandfather." 

"  You  do  not  love  him,  and  I  will  not."  The 
sturdy  little  figure,  and  the  serious  face  with  the 
chin  already  firm  for  such  a  child,  the  dark,  grave 
eyes,  and  the  determined  speech,  were  so  like  his 
father  that  the  widow  gave  half  a  cry. 

"  You  must,  my  son,  and  I  will  try.  Your 
father  would  wish  it." 

The  little  boy  pondered  for  a  second. 

"  Very  well,  mamma ;  but  he  must  be  good 
to  you." 

As  the  little  fellow  left  the  room  the  widow 
threw  herself  on  her  knees. 


in 


As  General  Hampden  stood  and  waited  in  the 
dusk,  he  felt  that  his  whole  life  and  future  de- 
pended on  the  issue  of  the  next  few  moments. 
He  determined  to  take  matters  in  his  own  hand. 
Every  moment  might  tell  against  him,  and  might 
decide  his  fate.  So,  without  waiting  longer,  he 


The  Christmas  Peace  121 

rang  the  bell.  A  minute  later  he  heard  steps 
within,  and  the  door  was  opened  by  one  who  he 
knew  must  be  Colonel  Drayton,  though  had  he 
met  him  elsewhere  he  should  not  have  recognized 
the  white  hair  and  the  thin,  bent  form  as  that  of 
his  old  friend  and  enemy.  Colonel  Drayton  had 
evidently  not  seen  his  grandson  yet,  for  he  spoke 
as  to  a  stranger. 

"Will  you  not  walk  in,  sir?"  he  said  cor- 
dially. "  I  was  expecting  my  little  grandson,  who 
went  out  a  short  while  ago."  He  peered  up  the 
street.  "  Did  you  wish  to  see  my  daughter  ? 
You  will  find  us  in  a  little  confusion.  Christmas 
time  is  always  a  busy  season  with  us  on  account 
of  our  young  man,  my  grandson,"  He  lingered 
with  pride  over  the  words. 

The  General  stepped  into  the  light. 

"  Wilmer  Drayton,  don't  you  know  me?  I 
am  Oliver  Hampden,  and  I  have  come  to  apolo- 
gize to  you  for  all  I  have  done  which  has  of- 
fended you,  and  to  ask  you  to  be  friends  with 
me."  He  held  out  his  hand. 

The  old  Colonel  stepped  back,  and  under  the 
shock  of  surprise  paused  for  a  moment 

"  Oliver  Hampden !  "  The  next  moment  he 
stepped  forward  and  took  his  hand. 

"  Come  in,  Oliver,"  he  said  gently,  and  putting 
his  other  arm  around  the  General's  shoulder,  he 
handed  him  into  the  little  cosey,  fire-lighted  room, 


122  The  Page  Story  Book 

as  though  nothing  had  happened  since  he  had 
done  the  same  the  last  time  fifty  years  before. 

At  this  moment  the  door  opened,  and  the  little 
boy  entered  with  mingled  mysteriousness  and  im- 
portance. Seeing  the  two  gentlemen  standing 
together,  he  paused  with  a  mystified  look  in 
his  wide-open  eyes,  trying  to  comprehend  the 
situation. 

"  Oliver,  come  here,"  said  the  Colonel  quietly. 
"  This  is  your  other  grandfather." 

The  boy  came  forward,  and  wheeling,  stood 
close  beside  the  Colonel,  facing  General  Hamp- 
den,  like  a  soldier  dressing  by  his  file-closer. 

"  You  are  my  grandfather,"  he  said,  glancing 
up  at  the  Colonel. 

The  Colonel's  eyes  glowed  with  a  soft  light. 
"  Yes,  my  boy ;  and  so  is  he.  We  are  friends 
again,  and  you  must  love  him — just  as  you 
do  me." 

"  I  will  not  love  him  as  much,"  was  the  sturdy 
answer. 

It  was  the  General  who  spoke  next.  "  That  is 
right,  my  boy.  All  I  ask  is  that  you  will  love 
me  some."  He  was  pleading  with  this  young 
commissioner. 

"  I  will,  if  you  are  good  to  my  mother."  His 
eyes  were  fastened  on  him  without  a  tremor,  and 
the  General's  deep-set  eyes  began  to  glow  with 
hope. 


The  Christmas  Peace  123 

"  That's  a  bargain,"  he  said,  holding  out  his 
hand.  The  boy  took  it  gravely. 

Just  then  the  door  opened,  and  Lucy  Hampden 
entered.  Her  face  was  calm  and  her  form  was 
straight  Her  eyes,  deep  and  burning,  showed 
that  she  was  prepared  either  for  peace  or  war. 
It  was  well  for  the  General  that  he  had  chosen 
peace.  Better  otherwise  had  he  charged  once 
more  the  deadliest  battle  line  he  had  ever  faced. 

With  a  woman's  instinct  the  young  widow 
comprehended  at  the  first  glance  what  had  taken 
place,  and  although  her  face  was  white,  her  eyes 
softened  as  she  advanced.  The  General  had 
turned  and  faced  her.  He  could  not  utter  a  word, 
but  the  boy  sprang  toward  her,  and  wheeling, 
stood  by  her  side.  Taking  his  hand,  she  led  him 
forward.  •» 

"  Oliver,"  she  said  gently,  "  this  is  your 
father's  father."  Then  to  the  General,  in  a  dead 
silence,  "  Father,  this  is  your  son's  son." 

The  General  clasped  them  both  in  his  arms. 

"  Forgive  me !  Forgive  me !  I  have  prayed 
for  his  forgiveness,  for  I  can  never  forgive  my- 
self." 

"  He  forgave  you,"  said  the  widow  simply. 


124  The  Page  Story  Book 


IV 

No  young  king  was  ever  put  to  bed  with  more 
ceremony  or  more  devotion  than  was  that  little 
boy  that  night.  Two  old  gentlemen  were  his 
grooms  of  the  bedchamber  and  saw  him  to  bed 
together. 

The  talk  was  all  of  Christmas,  and  the  General 
envied  the  ease  with  which  the  other  grandfather 
carried  on  the  conversation.  But  when  the  boy, 
having  kissed  his  grandfather,  said  of  his  own 
accord,  "  Now  I  must  kiss  my  other  grandfather," 
he  envied  no  man  on  earth. 

The  next  morning  when  Oliver  Hampden,  be- 
fore the  first  peep  of  light,  waked  in  his  little  bed, 
which  stood  at  the  foot  of  his  grandfather's  bed 
in  the  tiny  room  which  they  occupied  together, 
and  standing  up,  peeped  over  the  foot-board  to 
catch  his  grandfather  "  Christmas  gift,"  he  was 
surprised  to  find  that  the  bed  was  empty  and  un- 
disturbed. Then,  having  tiptoed  in  and  caught 
his  mother,  he  stole  down  the  stairs  and  softly 
opened  the  sitting-room  door,  where  he  heard  the 
murmur  of  voices.  The  fire  was  burning  dim, 
and  on  either  side  sat  the  two  old  gentlemen  in 
their  easy  chairs,  talking  amicably  and  earnestly 
as  they  had  been  talking  when  he  kissed  them 
"  good-night."  Neither  one  had  made  the  sug- 


The  Christmas  Peace  125 

gestion  that  it  was  bedtime ;  but  when  at  the  first 
break  of  day  the  rosy  boy  in  his  night-clothes 
burst  in  upon  them  with  his  shout  of  "  Christmas 
gift,"  and  his  ringing  laughter,  they  both  knew 
that  the  long  feud  was  at  last  ended,  and  peace 
was  established  forever. 


THE  END 


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